No Such Thing As Time
by PCBW
Summary: Au New Earth JC romance. A story much like 2013; a slow exploration of Janeway and Chakotay's relationship and how it may have come to pass if Voyager hadn't come back so soon.
1. Chapter 1

Often when she wasn't looking, he let himself discern things he hadn't been able to before. He catalogued the length of her hair, flowing down her back, now freed from the tortuous bun that held it on the ship. And the sunshine, so abundant here, highlighted coppers and golds he'd never known painted the long strands.

Chakotay liked to watch her in the little things she did, like the way she pursed her lips in frustration when the solution to a problem dangled just out of reach; the muffled curses that she sang under her breath, or how sometimes she'd laugh at herself and share her own amusement.

"What?"

Instantly blushing, he smiled palpable dimples at his being caught, "nothing."

"I catch you doing that a lot these days," she smiled, not the least bit bothered. "Something on your mind?"

"No," Chakotay shook his head and settled his bottom back into the chair. "Not really."

Kathryn sat back and looked miserably out the window, "it's raining," she sulked the obvious.

"I know," Chakotay took a deep breath and let it out. "You can't go peeking in your traps."

"Not that there'd be any bugs in them. They've all probably burrowed into trees and underground to wait out the storm." She laughed to herself after a silence, "I can't understand this planet – plasma storms, rain storms, ion storms…! Couldn't we have gotten bitten somewhere a little more temperate?

Chakotay joined in her laughter as he got up to peek out the window, "It would have been nice…"

"I remember the storms in Indiana," her voice took on a wistful note. "The thunder across the plains. I once saw lightening that split a tree in two!"

"In two?" He clarified, disbelieving.

"Uh huh. I was only six years old and…" She took a breath, closing her eyes as she gave a quick shake of her head. "Well I don't think I had ever been that scared. I was all alone in the house when the storm came; my mother and Phoebe had gone into town that day – I think Phoebe wanted to buy art supplies and a canvass, and I remember…"

Chakotay turned his head, smiling at the way her eyes lit, caught up in her memories. He was being indulgent, he thought – he gained too much enjoyment in watching her like this.

"… The way the storm rolled in. One minute the sun was so bright, shining in the windows of my bedroom and nearly blinding me. And the next thing I knew, the sky was black. The lightening started almost immediately, and the thunder followed not moments later. It wasn't the first storm I'd ever seen, but it was the first one where I was alone…"

"Storms are frightening for anyone," He soothed, drawing her away from the memory and back to him.

"Yes," She met his brown eyes and shrugged not a little sheepishly. "Well…"

Chakotay smiled and gave a nod along with a quick cursory tug on the ear, "well, how about dinner?"

Kathryn gave a shrug and made him laugh, "I could always eat."

Eyes still on the painting in front of them, he responded with a chuckle,"The winds of change are blowing through this household then!"

She rolled her eyes and made an incredulous face. "I eat!"

"Oh?" His voice strained as he reached inside of the stasis unit. "Tell that to the half full bowls of food I find strewn here and there."

"You're exaggerating."

"Oh, Okay." He nodded sarcastically, feeling the smile greet his back. "So did the tree really split in two?"

"Well," Kathryn sat back in the small chair and made a face. "Maybe not completely…"

"But?"

"A few branches fell off. I remember cleaning it up the next day with my mother in the garden."

"Like we do here."

"Yes," She nodded and spoke softly. "Like we do here."


	2. Chapter 2

The rain didn't stop until late in the evening, making Kathryn think of the mess that would greet her thin shoes when she stepped out of the shelter in the morning. But for now, she simply enjoyed the earthy smells that seeped in through the open window on the breeze.

"I like that smell," He yawned, putting a voice to her thoughts.

"Yes," She said and turned her eyes back to her work. "So do I."

"I'm going to bed," Chakotay gave a nod, getting up and leaving the clutter on his workspace. "I'll see you in the morning, Kathryn. Don't stay up too late," he winked.

Kathryn gave him a look, "you sound like my mother."

He only shrugged, "that's not such a bad thing."

"Stop it, you," She laughed, shaking her head at the easy banter that played between them. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight Kathryn."

She remembered back to the first night, when the sound had been nearly annoying. Kathryn was used to the faint buzz of Voyager's engines, not the chirping insects, and not his breathing. But after three weeks, it was like a lullaby that she couldn't sleep without.

It wasn't loud, per se. It was just there. In and out, so softly it would go. The sound narrating her thoughts, she imagined what he would dream about; maybe the ship, or a lover he left somewhere along the way…? Perhaps he dreamed of his family and all the ones he left behind. Or maybe he dreamt of nothing and his sleep was deep and restful.

Sometimes he would start speaking softly, mostly gibberish of English mixed with beautifully foreign words she had never heard before. She thought to ask him about them, but nearly always forgot when the chance presented itself.

The table felt lonely without him and the little movements he made that kept her distractedly engaged with her task. In the stillness, she sat for a few moments while tired eyes scanned the bland readout of the computer screen as a yawn escaped her lips. She was more tired now, she noticed, after a long day. On Voyager, she thought her energy interminable, but now, in the sunlight and the warmth, she seemed to fatigue more easily.

She listened to his breath, measured, steady, on the other side of the partition, and turning, Kathryn could see his outline through the frosted Plexiglas that separated them. Head resting in her hands, she watched him move – tossing to a fro on the small, cramped bed.

Every night she heard that same restlessness; no doubt he was as uncomfortable in his bed as she was in hers. The beds (even the house itself!) were only fit for children, she thought, and they reminded Kathryn of the play houses she and Phoebe had when they were growing up.

A tense breath escaped her lips followed on its heels by another yawn as she looked around once more at the drab walls. This was where we're relegated to spend eternity… The thought put a sink in her stomach when she juxtaposed it to the one that she held so dearly in her heart – the one of going home.

She tried not to, but couldn't help for a flashed moment thinking of her mother and Phoebe and the notion that she would never again see their faces.

Funnily, Mark's staid face never entered her conscience or her longing, and the notion made her feel cold when she thought of it. She didn't miss him as much as she thought she should.

Her lips gave a gentle quirk as she tried and failed to conjure the intricacies of his face. She could remember grey and wrinkles, and in a moment it made her think of her grandfather. Wriggling uncomfortably in the chair, she tried to remember his laughter - the few moments of it that she'd heard in their time together. Nothing came, though – not the sound of his voice, not the crinkle of joy around his eyes. Nothing…

But she had loved him, hadn't she? And she wanted to be faithful to him, but did it mean anything anymore. Did it?

Chakotay turned again and sighed, drawing her attention back to the figure behind the glass, "Go to sleep, Kathryn," She heard a sleepily resigned smile in his voice and it fomented one of hers.

"All right," She yawned, getting up and letting her fingers dance across the console on the wall and turn the lights off. "Good night, Chakotay."


	3. Chapter 3

He thinks the days can stretch into infinity here. The sun rises early and doesn't set until late in a haze of fiery pastels. They think it's summer but can't be sure until they learn more about the biosphere.

Kathryn keeps putting off that particular study; bar the bugs, it seems as though she doesn't want to know anything about this place. Perhaps it would suggest too much a sense of permanence, and she still hopes for a way to leave.

Not far away, humming muffled curse words to herself, she catches her fingers in the traps. She works for more hours than she sleeps on the traps and insects that she harvests. Kathryn is meticulous in her work, and through her dedication he can easily see how she's achieved what she has in so little time.

Chakotay watches her, turning his head and smiling as his hears listened before turning his attention back to his task.

The wood glides seamlessly under his fingertips. The texture is different than the trees on Dorvan that he grew up working; they're even different from the trees on Earth. The material is smoother, more malleable – perhaps more pleasurable to manipulate.

Distracted for another moment, he looks off into the distance for his eyes to catch a sight of the clearing in the front of their home where the tub he made not a week ago sits. Chakotay is proud of that work and the craftsmanship of it; he's proud of the look in her eyes when he showed it to her. He is proud of how much she uses it, revels in it.

It's starting to become an addiction – pleasing her. He thinks back to when they were on the ship, and it had been then too, but now even more so.

Two nights ago he'd presented her with a headboard, but it wasn't enough – only something to palliate. But still she was pleased. He hears her every night, though, tossing and turning in the small cramped mattress just beside him and he started to wonder about making bigger beds. Bigger beds, though, necessitate a bigger house as nothing more than simple twin size mattresses would fit into those small partitions.

His eyes scan the small shelter that they had called home for the past few weeks, and like always, he's disappointed. Spending the rest of his life in such a place where beige walls sing of Starfleet homogeneity.

"Chakotay?" He hadn't heard her footsteps behind him, and for a moment he's startled.

He turns to her and smiles, "Yes, Kathryn?"

She looks him up and down for a few moments, examining the muscles she can see under the baggy striped shirt, now wet from his exertion, before slowly sitting on the low-lying tree branch by his workspace. "Nothing," She breathes, leaning back against the tree. "I think I know what you're thinking about."

"Oh?" He laughs, stepping away from his workspace to sit next to her. "What am I thinking about?"

She smiles cheekily as the light reflects off her blue eyes, "building something…"

"Yes," he laughs outright at that, "and you'd be right."

Kathryn turns her head to the right and shields her eyes from the sun, "What do you want to build?"

Chakotay sets down the tools on the bench and sits down next to her on the low-lying branch. With a deep breath he clears his nose and meets her eyes, "a home."


	4. Chapter 4

The silence stretches between the two for more than enough moments to make it awkward until she lets her eyes fall with a nod, "Home," she whispers. "I keep forgetting that we're not going to leave here…"

"Kathryn," He whispers and goes to tentatively take her hand before she pulls it away.

"No," Kathryn shakes her head. "It's all right. You're right… we may never leave here. Here this desolate planet with just the two of us, for the rest of our lives…"

He says nothing and moves back a bit on the branch, but she continues. "I think I knew that… I know that. When we said goodbye to our crew, I knew that. When Tuvok told me Voyager was leaving orbit, I knew that. But there's such a finality to our lives here," her eyes meet his again. "How far away do you think she is?"

"Voyager?" He asks redundantly while he thinks on the answer. "About three weeks by shuttle if she was standing in space… we would never make it in a shuttle, Kathryn, even if we did find a cure."

Her heart sinks with information that she already knew, "I have to keep looking Chakotay. I can't accept-"

"I know," Chakotay's eyes meet hers again and his words are so soft they're almost whispered. "What I'm doing makes you uncomfortable, doesn't it?"

Kathryn gives a small nod, "It feels like you've given up."

A small dimple indents on his cheek, "I'm not as tenacious as you are, Kathryn. The reality is that we may never leave here. So," He pauses and looks at the shelter again. "I'm trying to make a home here. Something more than a plain, grey box..."

"I can understand that," Kathryn begins to rise. "You're a nester, aren't you?"

"A nester?" He laughs his confusion.

"It's something my mother called my sister – she liked to stay in one place and wherever we would go, even if it was just for a weekend, she would bring a full suitcase with her things like she was moving there."

Chakotay gives a small laugh at her story, "A nester, huh? Maybe that's what I am, then."

"Certainly," Kathryn chuckles before she steps away. "Well, I tried a new glucose bait in the traps…"

"Maybe you'll make a break through," He suggests.

"Maybe," She winks.

"Will you be home for dinner?" He asks, picking up his tools again.

"Yes," She smiles. "As long as I don't have to make it."

"Heaven forbid!"

"Chakotay!" She laughs, her voice echoing down the trail. "I'll see you later!"


	5. Chapter 5

A storm came later that night and washed it all away.

Early in the day, the sun had been shining down on his back, warming, burning. The wood under his fingertips siphoned his attention as he worked the tools over and over to make it smooth. Plans rolled over in his mind; a headboard and a bathtub under his belt, he wanted to try for a table to replace the cramped utilitarian workspace in their kitchen.

So focused, he barely noticed the change in temperature until the sun was almost completely hidden behind the clouds. It started as a breeze that rustled through the trees, and for a moment he thought it like the night before when they'd gotten all the rain. He packed up his tools and placed the utilitarian blue tarp over his project and started calling Kathryn's name, hoping she would hear him and make it home before the storm.

He never anticipated how quickly the storm would come though. "Kathryn!" A green/grey miasma swirled around them, viscous and rough against him. He had known plasma storms before, but never of this magnitude. "Kathryn!" He called again, venturing to the edge of the clearing. She wasn't anywhere in sight and she wasn't answering. Please come home, Kathryn! He started the mantra in his head, like a prayer.

"Kathryn! Where are you?!"

His ears were sharp, tuned to anything other than the violent rustling of the leaves so that he might hear her.

"Kathryn!"

He tore behind the short trees and heard something other than the inclement weather, "Kathryn!" The relief he felt at seeing her tingled all the way to his toes.

"Chakotay!" She looked up from the ground, kit cradled to her chest like a child.

He crouched to her level and looked her over frantically in the hazy green darkness, "are you hurt?"

"No," She was shaking. "I just couldn't keep my balance and carry the case."

"Give it to me," He pulled her up with his arms around her.

"What's going on?!"

"It seems to be some sort of plasma storm! The tricorders don't recognise it, but it sure packs a whollop!"

Kathryn had breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of him. The strength of the storm was fiercer than anything she'd experienced in Indiana, and those storms had scared the hell out of her.

The winds picked up as they ran the way back to the shelter, battering them this way and that. They stumbled a little in their clumsiness, as he wouldn't take his arms from around her.

They would have been faster had he simply take her hand and dragged her along with him. But he wouldn't take his arms from around her, and for the moment she didn't mind; solely happy to feel safe and sheltered.

He pried open the door of their battered abode and ushered her inside. "Under the table!" He said. "It'll be safest there."

She nodded as they crouched low under the solid structure. Outside, the winds were getting stronger and she could feel the home beginning to shake more. Her heart beat uncomfortable in her ears as she felt him curl up behind her – felt his arms close around her. "Oh!" Kathryn brought her hands up to her mouth as the house began to shake and belongings fell from the cabinets and counters.

Hand over her mouth, she watched her world fall apart for the third time. She hadn't realised she was crying until her heard his voice in her ear, "Shh," He whispered. "It's all right," those words, he sang over and over as a mantra and slowed her feverish pulse. "We're okay."

* * *

Her breathing began to calm and the chaos around her, harried as it was, started to fade away. She felt his arms around her, hands moving in soothing circles around her bicep. His body was warm and covered her like a safety blanket, and Chakotay spoke soothingly and didn't release his hold on her until the storm died down.

"It's all gone," She said once the words came to her in the silent wake of the maelstrom. "Everything is gone."

And it was. Their house was in shambles, most things broken and irreparably damaged.

"I know," He soothed. "But we'll start again."

"Again," She let the word out in a solemn breath. "That's all we seem do to. Start again. Nothing finished."

He closed his eyes against the truth of her words and released her from his arms, "I know. Let's see what's outside"

She felt immediately lonely without his warmth on her back, but only lingered for a moment before she followed.


	6. Chapter 6

There was resistance when he opened to door to reveal the catastrophe that had been laid by the storm. Miserably, she followed behind him, giving a small weep when she took in the scene that met her eyes.

Kathryn crouched down, rubbing her eyes against the carnage before them. Traps that she'd set around the shelter were broken and empty – all the work that she had put in was now meaningless. Gone. "None of this is salvageable," she rubbed her brow, holding back tears of endless frustration. "There's no way I can continue my research."

He regarded her solemnly. "I'm sorry," his answer was soft and sincere.

She met his eyes once before turning back to what was before her. "Well," Her lungs drew in a deep breath and let it out. "We might as well clean up. I'll start on the inside," she said, turning back into the shelter.

"I'll clear away these fallen branches," She heard him say before she disappeared behind the shelter's flimsy walls. For a moment, hidden from his pitiful gaze, she sat and took in the disaster that decorated the room around her. Most of the precious things were broken in pieces on the floor and her work was scattered. Most of it was meaningless now anyways and could be recycled.

Her gut churned with anger and sadness as she started arranging the chaos. This isn't how it was supposed to be... none of it.

Neither of them spoke for the remainder of the day, not until long past the violaceous sunset bled into a star speckled sky. Near the end, he was sore from the work, but found it dually disappointing and gratifying, as all of the mess - mostly fallen branches, were stockpiled in a heap near the home; perhaps they would be useful for something he would make. His lips quirked a wry smile as he looked at the sturdy structure in the clearing – at least the bathtub was relatively unharmed.

Chakotay turned from his tired survey to find her leaning against the door, watching him. "Are you disappointed?" She asked softly.

He bowed his head and closed his eyes, thinking on the question before he spoke the answer. "I'm disappointed for you, Kathryn, that you've lost your work."

A long Silence stretched between before she nodded and turned back inside. "Do you want something to eat?"

"Did you make something?"

"Me? No," Kathryn huffed a laugh. "That's your forte."

"Ah," Chakotay chuckled and followed her into the shelter. "So I suppose the question is, are you hungry?"

She turned and leaned against the tidied table and gave a half smile. "Starving."

"So that means I'm cooking?" He teased, walking over to the stasis unit to discover anything acceptable.

"Uh huh."

He shook his head in amusement. "To tell you the truth, I'm starving, too. We missed lunch."

The shirt soaked in sweat clung to his body, outlining the bulky definition of his chest. It was hard not to look, and hard to hide that she was looking. "I thought so," her answer was more breathless than she anticipated.

Chakotay beamed under her appraisal. "I suppose I'll, uh, get take a shower before we eat…"

"Shower," Kathryn blushed when she realised he'd seen her and turned away to fiddle with the small nothings on the table. "Yes. I'll, uh, set the table."

He walked away with his face down, his smile hidden as he closed the bathroom door behind him. That big grin was barely tamped as he felt the sonic rays carry away the dirt and grime of the day, leaving him clean. On days like this, he wished for a water shower, like the ones he had grown up with. After long days of physical work, there was something soothing about the way the water felt on his aching muscles. The sonic shower didn't seem to have the same effect, but it was refreshing nevertheless.

The look he'd seen in Kathryn's eyes stayed with him and he kept it like a snapshot in his mind. Chakotay would often catch her watching him and the movements that he made, but never before with such a hunger.

Over the past two years, they had grown increasingly aware of the other. But, small touches, lingering glances, and subtle flirtation was all they ever shared. If it crossed his lips that he did not desire more with her, then it would have been a lie. Chakotay had been captivated from the moment that he'd seen her on his hazy view screen. But it was only that – captivation, and perhaps a healthy dose of awe.

It wasn't long, though, into their journey that it transformed into love.

Love…

The word stopped him as he donned a fresh shirt; could he call it love? He knew nearly nothing about her, only her voice, her mannerisms, her ideas – nothing of her past, bar small snippets and anecdotes that she offered so abstemiously; he knew nothing of likes and dislikes more than how she did and didn't like her coffee, her intense dislike of radishes, her love of a good vintage bottle….

Still, she was a constant presence in his mind, and every other thought was of her, about her, for her. And he loved her; would do anything for her; would willingly lay down his life for her.

She was still blushingly uncomfortable when he opened the door and entered the kitchen. "How about something simple?" He smiled.

Kathryn nodded, "sounds good."

"I was thinking…" He trailed off when the knife hit the cutting board and the replicated vegetables spilt their juice over the counter.

"Yes?"

"I was thinking: we need to start planting our own food. If we're going to be here for a long time we have to preserve the replicators."

"Mmm," She fiddled with the plates on the table. "I was thinking the same thing. Kes gave me some seeds from the airponics bay. I have a little experience with gardening, maybe tomorrow we can start planting them."

"We'll need to see about this planet's ecosystem; if there's going to be a winter and when it will come."

"Yes," She said. "We could run sensors from the shuttle."

"Good thinking," He passed. "Do you want tomato on your salad?"

"Yes, thank you. And what about water – plumbing?"

"I was thinking about that as well. We're also going to need more space, and something sturdier that can withstand storms a little better."

Kathryn nodded, "A home, you mean."

"Yes."

"How?"

"Well," He rubbed his neck absently and looked out one of the shelter's three windows. "I was thinking that I could build something."

"Build? Out of wood?"

"Yes," He answered. "I built a few with my father on Dorvan when I was younger, and I think I still remember how. We can harvest the wood from the forest."

"How would you mill it?"

He turned to get the rest of their dinner as she sat down at the table. "I was thinking I could do a certain amount with a phaser and the rest we could leave as logs."

"As in a log cabin?" She grinned, taking a bite of the dinner he'd made.

"Yes," He nodded, smiling as he took a bite of his sandwich. "We would have to replicate the nails and a few other supplies, but I think I could do it."

She laughed through the next bit of food, "I feel like a pioneer!"

"I guess that would be an accurate description," He shared in her reverie. "24th Century pioneers."

"It makes sense," Kathryn looked glumly at the drab room around them. "We can't live in this shelter forever."

"No," His eyes followed her line of sight. "We certainly can't."


	7. Chapter 7

He slept easily that night with the cool air bleeding in through the slit he called a bedroom window. The sounds of the forest – the gentle rustling of the leaves, the sounds of animals like the monkey they'd met in weeks before, and the bugs who only seemed to come out at night – soothed him and lulled him into a dreamless sleep.

Chakotay had gone to bed before her, leaving her like he usually did, with a nod and a warm grin. She would watch him leave, watch him behind the blurred glass as he threw off his shirt and trousers and fell into the narrow bed.

The sound of his breath and the subtle chirps of their new home seemed to centre her after the length of the day while her fingers tapped aimlessly on the console in front of her. She breathed deeply in and out, once and then twice as he eyes scanned the schematics on the screen.

She was compiling sensor data that Voyager had collected and sent to them before their departure. The planet's climates were uniformly distributed; much like they were on Earth, though nowhere was particularly inclement.

He began to snore behind the partition and for a moment she started to smile. It was a soft sound, new for him. Maybe she would tease him about it in the morning, but for now she would find her own rest. She wasn't tireless anymore… She wasn't anything anymore. And that thought, more than any other, put a pit in her stomach.

Her whole life she wanted to be someone. Armed with a commanding voice and a dogged tenacity, she fought to become something her father would be proud of. The thought of him brought dual feelings of affection and inadequacy.

Her father had never given her any indication that she be anything other than her best, but at the very same time she felt it wasn't enough – that he wasn't asking enough. And after the crash, after his death, she wished he had demanded so much more from her instead of the relentless kindness and encouragement that he constantly offered.

What would Edward have said if he was here now, seeing her like this? Would he have been similarly proud, or would he have been righteously disappointed at her many follies?

They were questions Kathryn thought on more than she should.

Chakotay's snoring kept up on the other side of the wall and for just a flashed moment, the sound was more annoying than it was endearing. He reminded her so much of Edward with his dogged kindness and the quiet strength that he exuded… He never asked anything of her, only offered that same quiet reassurance and support. But sometimes, she wished that he would push her – demand more from her. She wished he would tell her that her clinging to the hope of leaving here was foolish; she wished that he would tell her that the distance that she kept between them was irrational…

But just as soon as that rushed exasperation came, it went away; those were the qualities that she loved about him – the same qualities that she loved about her father.

It wasn't long, as she listened to that beloved sound that she fell into a deep sleep lulled there by the sounds of his breathing and precious thoughts of him.


	8. Chapter 8

She looked beautiful first thing in the morning, he thought. Tousled, her hair fell in soft sleep-pressed waves that tumbled down her back like a waterfall. Her face looked different, too and when she smiled at him with her face stripped bare of the little make up she wore, his heart stopped. "Good morning," she gave him a sleepy smile. "You snored last night."

"Me?" He pointed his finger towards his chest with a face of incredulity as he handed her a mug of pressed coffee. "I snored?"

"Mm," Her smile broadened and she gave a laugh. "You snored."

"I'd better be careful then; I'm becoming my father," He shook his head against the notion. "Well," the timbres in his voice strained as he took a seat at the table and changed the subject. "How did you sleep, despite my snoring?"

She snorted a laugh over her morning cup. "Fine, thank you."

"I thought I would help you with the garden today, if you like."

"I would, thank you," She winked. "I've kept all the seeds in the drawer under my bed. I looked at them a few days after we came here and there must be twelve different types of seeds."

"What types?"

"Talaxian tomatoes," she remembered. "Potato, lettuce, a type of squash I've never seen…"

"Hopefully not leola root," he made her laugh.

"Hopefully not! If it is, I'm not planting it."

"No need to corrupt the soil with it," he teased.

"Certainly not!" She scolded. "I'll eat anything other than that dreaded root."

He smiled, "so go on, what else was in there?"

"I can't remember off the top of my head. We'll find out later. The most important question is, what are we having for breakfast?"

"Would you hit me if I said leola root?"

She shook her head and tried not to laugh but the mirth broke through and she dissolved into laughter at the cheeky look on his face. "You're bad," she pointed. "You know that?"

They leered at each other before he broke the silence, "How about porridge with fruit?"

"Mmm," she nodded, getting up to turn back to her enclosure. "I'll go find those seeds."

* * *

The sun was attenuated, hidden behind residual clouds that hadn't seemed to move since yesterday. For once, though, she was grateful for the cool reprieve as they worked the ground in front of the shelter.

"You seem comfortable doing this work," Chakotay stopped the work of his shovel. "Like you done it before."

The comment brought a smile along with a cadre of memories to the fore. "I grew up around farmers," she said. "My parents insisted that we learn some basic gardening skills."

Kathryn turned to him as he brushed off his hands on his dirty trousers and took a drink of water. "Did you enjoy it?"

"No," Kathryn gave him a look and a laugh. "I hated it. Who wanted to be mucking around in the mud when you could be studying quantum mechanics?" She finished with a chuckle. "But I find it very satisfying now… planting the seeds, hopefully watching them grow."

"They'll grow," he soothed, passing her the bottle.

"You know, my sister, Phoebe, she loved this kind of thing. She'd be in her element here."

"Oh?" He sank further back into the soft ground and waited for her to tell him a story. "Tell me about her."

"Phoebe?" Kathryn trailed a solemn finger through the exposed dirt as she thought on the young woman who was so far away. "She's everything I'm not, I guess. Funny," She counted on one hand. "Creative, outgoing, easy to laugh…"

He stopped her, torn by the melancholy that marred her delicate features. "You're all those things, too, Kathryn."

Her eyes met his sadly, "I'll never see her again. And the last time I saw her…"

She trailed off so he filled the silence. "The last time I saw my sister I told her I never wanted to come home again. I told her to stop bothering me, stop contacting me, because I knew it was always going to be a plea to come home. And those were the last words that I ever spoke to her. After the conflict started," Chakotay took a deep breath. "Well I don't know if she's alive, or if she died on Dorvan. Her name wasn't among the casualties like my parents, but that doesn't mean she isn't…"

His sadness tore at her and carried her legs to his side as she knelt beside him, "Oh, Chakotay," Kathryn whispered his name in comfort as her fingers tangled with his. "I didn't know."

"Because I never told you," Brown eyes met blue. "And it doesn't matter now. I'll just believe that she made it out alive, that she's safe. Would it be too much to hope that she's happy?" The brown eyes were hesitant, nervous, as though he were asking a question to which the answer was ominously foreknown.

"No," Kathryn shook her head and sat down fully beside him. "It's not. I hope for that too – about my own sister."

"You said she was an artist."

"Yes," Kathryn gave a wistful smile and settled into the soft grass next to him, their hands still joined. "She made beautiful paintings, sculptures… anything and everything…! She seemed to be good at whatever she chose to do."

"Like you," Chakotay nudged her shoulder and watched as she blushed and hid her face from the compliment.

"No," The answer was whispered. "Not like me."

"Kathryn," her squeezed her hand at the melancholy murmur.

"No, Chakotay," She met his eyes with a steely adamanance painting her face as she moved to pull away. "I'm not. If I was, I would never have gotten us into this situation." Her eyes scanned the loneliness around them. "Here on this planet, our crew far away, stranded here in this godforsaken quadrant with years of travel ahead of them! It's laughable!"

"Sometimes things just happen, Kathryn," Chakotay breathed, pulling her back to him. "You did the best you could, but sometimes…"

"What?" She challenged.

He untangled their fingers to use his hands to indistinctly grapple with the air in front of him while he chose his words. His breath came out in a whoosh, "do you believe in fate, Kathryn?"

"No," Her answer was automatic and unconsidered.

A lonely dimple came out of hiding on his amber cheeks, "Well," he paused. "I do. I have to believe that there's something more for us here. That there is some good that will come out of this."

"What if there isn't?" She sighed and took another look around them. "What if… I feel like everything I've done before this is a waste. I thought I was destined for more than this; more than a life of anonymity, away from my command and everything I worked so hard for!"

"I can understand that," He tugged at his earlobe. "But just because you aren't in command doesn't your life is meaningless."

"I know," She exhaled a long breathed answer. "But, all I ever wanted from when I was a little girl was that life," her fingers pointed to the sky and her eyes followed before the blinding sun started to show from behind the clouds. "Like the one I saw my father live. I wanted what he had. I wanted the happiness that he had, and the respect that came with it. Didn't you want that, too, Chakotay? Didn't you want more than this?"

Drawing his legs into his chest, he wrapped his arms around his knees and leaned back in careful contemplation. "Yes," He finally answered. "But for different reasons. Starfleet represented the opposite against what I saw my whole life and it was something that I clung to because it made me different and set me apart from my father and everything that he represented, but…" Chakotay's breath left him in a rush before he filled his lungs again to finish his response. "After a while, when I lost everything, it didn't seem to matter anymore."

Kathryn's fingers tangled in the soft grass under them. "It still matters to me, Chakotay."

"I know," he gave her an understanding nod. "And I'm sorry for this, Kathryn. If it hadn't been for me, you would never have been in the Badlands."

"It's not your fault," she shook her head. "It was my decision to destroy the array."

"We're playing that game."

"Which game?" She laughed.

"The blame game."

"Oh," The tension left the air between them and was replaced by fondness. "You're right."

"We'll both take the blame," he chuckled lightly. "How's that? Now we're even."

"Sounds good," Her bright smile didn't let. "Chakotay?"

"Mmm," He leaned his head back with eyes closed to enjoy the sunlight.

"There's one thing I'm not sorry for."

Shielding his eyes with his hand, he turned his head to regard her. "Oh? What's that?"

"I'm not sorry that I met you."

Her words warmed him and sent frissons of something down to his toes as he took her hand again and squeezed her fingers, "Me neither, Kathryn. I'll never be sorry for that."

Kathryn gave a nod and lay back against the fragrant green grass, "So this is our life now."

"Yes," He whispered. "That it is."


	9. Chapter 9

He was getting more used to it: not only associating coffee with a morning beverage. Their house was beginning to smell like a coffee house night and day.

Kathryn walked around him; every so often stopping behind his chair to look at the plans he was drawing up. The first few times, he thought it endearing…. Until she kept doing it; breathing down his back, sighing when he made certain changes and additions to the schematic on the screen.

"Kathryn," He quenched the desire to roll his eyes and curl his fingers into a fist. "Is there something wrong?"

"No," she blew on her coffee and took a loud sip. "Nothing."

"Really?" He gave up and turned around to her, standing over him. "Because you're lingering."

"Lingering?" She actually looked wounded with her big eyes and messy hair. "Me?"

"Yes, you," he smiled and gestured to her. "Come on, out with it."

"Well," She leered and sat down next to him, so close that their thighs were brushing as they nearly breathed the same air. "Now that you mention it, I think we need more living space than that. The bathroom is too small, as well."

"Ah," He nodded and readjusted the parameters on the console. "Better?"

"Mmm," She took another loud swallow of the acrid coffee.

"How do you sleep after that?"

"This?" She held up the mug and looked at it before shrugging. "I guess after a while it starts to lose its desired effect. I mostly just drink it because I like the taste."

"Uh huh," He had stopped paying attention and had turned his eyes back to the screen. "So far we have two bedrooms, a kitchen, a work room for the both of us, and a bathroom. What else?"

"That about covers it. The rest of the furniture they gave us is still out in the stasis containers and with a bigger living space, it'll fit quite nicely."

"Mm," He nodded once before a tired yawn escaped. "I'd love a bigger bed…"

"So would I," She sighed and miserably looked towards her small enclosure. "I miss my bed on Voyager."

"I was just thinking the same thing."

They laughed together before she realised the hour, "It's nearly one in the morning."

"It feels it," he yawned again and moved to save the work they'd done on the plans. "I'll see you in the morning, Kathryn."

"I'll help you as much as I can with the building," his yawn was contagious. "But I'm not sure how much help I'll be."

"We'll figure it out," He said before he leaned down absently to kiss her cheek. He was too late to catch himself in recognition of his gaffe, but the action had been so natural that he could hardly stop himself.

Her breath caught at the feeling of his lips on her skin. The gesture felt expected, nearly ordinary, but exquisite nevertheless. "Um," He pulled back, blushing and abashed, like a little boy who'd done something naughty. "I'm-"

"Goodnight, Chakotay," her palm quickly cupped his cheek and she repeated the gesture before turning her back and retreating behind the enclave. "I'll see you in the morning."

His fingers touched the space that her lips had briefly occupied and his smile widened as he pulled back the meagre sheets on the cramped, little mattress. "Goodnight, Kathryn."


	10. Chapter 10

He dreamt of her that night - of her smiling at him, with her hair in messy disarray around her face and her cheeks flushed with the exertion of endless laughter.

It wasn't the first time Chakotay dreamed of her, but it was the first time that the dream had represented something of her that was so palpable. A few times on the ship, he used to close his eyes and see her like this.

Once it was in a vision quest, but even then it had been so different; then he hadn't yet seen this side of her. And so like a phantom, she had been only an imitation.

This time, though, she was real.

In the silence of sleep, he took time to notice the little things about her; the throatiness of her laugh, the blue of her eyes, the way her green dress showed off the copper in her hair…

"Chakotay," She said his name softly and he beamed. She could say his name forever and it would still be newly sweet and indulgent to his ears. "Chakotay," she said it again the spectre in from of him started to fade away, giving way to something infinitely more palpable. "Chakotay," he heard it again and opened his eyes to find her looking down at him.

"Kathryn."

"You kept saying my name," She blushed. "I thought you were having a nightmare."

"No," He looked down and sat up in the bed, hoping she wouldn't notice what was obvious. "What time is it?"

"Nine," she smiled crookedly. "We're becoming lay-abouts."

He chuckled, "To say the least. I don't think I even slept this late on weekends at the Academy."

"Neither did I," She replied, turning away with a deep rouge still on her cheeks. "Well, uh, I'll leave you to get dressed."

"I was thinking," He called out into the kitchen. "I'll start milling the wood today!"

"We have an extra phaser in the shuttle," She recalled. "I can help."

"That's fine!" He grinned at the mental image of her cutting wood. "We can start after breakfast."

"You're smiling because you think I can't do it," She challenged with her hands firmly on her hips at seeing that smile and knowing instantly the sentiment behind it.

His eyes widened and instantly his hands came out before him, "I didn't say anything!"

"You didn't have to," She squinted her suspicion and pointed a spoon at him for emphasis.

"Kathryn," He rolled his eyes. "I don't think there's anything you can't do."


	11. Chapter 11

She'd spent an hour agonising over the pants while she stood in front of the replicator. "I feel bad," Kathryn said. "It's wasteful to be spending this much energy on a pair of trousers."

"It's not," He requisitioned the item over her fuss and presented it to her. "Think of it as an investment."

She nodded and thanked him before hurrying behind the console to slip them on. "I haven't worn jeans since I was about eleven."

"No?" He passed before turning to regard her girlishly giddy about a new item of clothing.

"They feel nice," Kathryn smoothed her hands up and down the giving fabric.

"They look nice," He winked, making her blush. "Come on, let's see how good you are with that phaser."

"Better than you, I bet," She teased with a nudge to his shoulder.

"Have you always been this competitive?" He earned another shove.

"Hopelessly. Phoebe couldn't stand me when we were younger; she refused to play with me!"

He laughed, sharing in her fond memories while he pictured a spirited young Kathryn Janeway with freckled cheeks and smooth, long golden hair practically bullying her little sister into just one more game.

"You're laughing," She wagged her finger at him. "But it's the truth!"

"I can believe it. Have you seen the garden?" He pointed towards the impressive array of green jutting out from the raw dirt. "I'm surprised at how quickly they're growing."

"It's a good sign," Kathryn stooped to proudly examine the fresh leaves peeking out from the earth. "We'll have a readily available food source in a few weeks. I suppose in retrospect I shouldn't have grumbled at my parents for all those gardening lessons, huh?" She looked up at him to find an approving smile before she took the hand he offered and stood back up to full height. "Well," her lips twisted a smile. "We should get to work."

His face lit up in the sun, bright as the light reflected off his teeth, "Yes," he kept his hold on her hand and nodded towards the forest edge on the far side of the shelter near to where they kept the shuttle. "I was looking the other day and the trees here look a little thicker than they do elsewhere. This'll be a good place to start."

She nodded once, tightening her hold on his hand before letting go. "I've never done this before," Kathryn said, walking around the trees with her phaser primed.

He laughed once with an amused shake of his head and followed her, "Well…"


	12. Chapter 12

The work was hard, she thought, and the decision to replicate jeans rather than shorts was a poor one.

The sweat dripped down her nose and back as she gave a winded breath before she stepped back from the workspace to survey what they'd done. Ten trees altogether would give them the basic outlay of the house. They'd planned to build it on a rise of stone, but it was enough for now having to think about the wood, not where they would find the rest of the materials.

Chakotay caught her flushed features before she let herself fall down onto ground, away from the sun. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," She drew the word out and took a drink of lukewarm water from their shared canteen. "Just tired. I'm not used to work like this…!"

He gave a small smile and nodded, following to where she was sitting. She handed him the flask with an appraising look, "You're _drenched!"_

"No more than you are," he winked before taking a drink and let the water dribble down his chin and onto his shirt. "We'll have to replicate more appropriate clothing for tomorrow."

"Mm," she mused. "I was thinking the same thing, but it seems so wasteful."

"I know, but we're going to need the clothing anyway. Neither one of us had enough on board Voyager, and we didn't come prepared for a situation like this."

Kathryn quirked a crooked smile, "I thought I was going on a two week mission… practically _all_ I brought was my uniform! I thought that I'd be in Indiana at the end of the two weeks. It would have been autumn and I wouldn't have needed a pair of shorts…"

"I can imagine," He tried for a smile, but it ended in a frown before he looked away, unwilling to voice his own anecdote.

"You had less than I did, though," she looked at his side profile and remembered the small duffel he'd had B'Elanna beam down to the planet when they first arrived. "You must've-"

"Let's not… talk about it, Kathryn," Abruptly, he screwed the top back on the bottle and stood again, leaving her confusedly analysing what she could have said that had upset him. "We should get back to work, anyways. It's, uh, getting late. You know, I was thinking that we'll have to use a tractor beam," he said, changing the subject. "We're only two people, and we won't be able to lift these. Do you think we'd be able to programme it to layer precisely?"

Kathryn walked around him tentatively and chose her words. "I think so. We've done fine work with a tractor beam before."

"Not this fine, though. It would have to be precise - down to the millimetre."

She sighed, watching blessedly as the sun disappeared behind the afternoon clouds. "Well, we'll make it work…"

"I'm sorry," He said finally, taking a hesitant step towards her. "I didn't mean to be rude, I just-"

"It's all right, Chakotay."

"No," He laid a gentle hand on her arm and moved in front of her so she couldn't ignore him. "It's not, and I'm sorry."

Kathryn's crooked smile came out of hiding when she was confronted with the frank and earnest sincerity that she had come to associate with him. "It's all right. I'm the one who should be sorry. Obviously something I said offended you, and I didn't mean to do that."

"No," he took a long breath, looking down at their feet before back at her. "I just…"

"You don't have to explain," She said sincerely. "You don't-"

"I think I knew in my heart," He kept on, ignoring her because he knew he wouldn't be able to hide from her. "I think _everyone_ knew, that we weren't going to make it home. Our plan was to draw Gul Evek into the Badlands and hopefully gain an advantage, but the Val Jean was old and falling apart by the seams. Even if we had been successful in dealing a blow to Gul's ship, we never would have made it out of the Badlands. It hadn't started out like one, but I think we all knew towards the end that it was a suicide mission. So…" his brown eyes bore into her blue ones. "I didn't pack, Kathryn. What would have been the point?"

Kathryn hadn't realised that tears were falling down her cheeks until she felt his fingers there, sliding the slick sadness away from her skin. "I'm so sorry."

" _Why…"_ he whispered. "Are you sorry? You saved our lives."

Abruptly, her eyes opened wide at the realisation that was beginning to dawn on her. The smile on his face mirrored a crooked one of hers as he trailed his fingers gently down her cheek.

Drenched in tenderness, she wanted to whisper that for once she was grateful that they were here, and that a life without him wouldn't be one. She wanted to tell him she was sorry, but also that she wasn't…

Kathryn wanted to tell him so many things, but all the words she seemed to conjure were so pitiably derisory. An abrupt breath filled her lungs and jolted her body to move, starting with her fingers that searched for his. A small step closed the distance between them as their hands tangled and she felt the warmth roll off his body and smelled the sweet scent of sweat that bled off him in waves.

His eyes searched hers, and she found the brown tinged dually with fear and undeniable lust. Kathryn wanted to kiss him so badly that it was an ache. From the first moment she'd met him, she had wanted to do so with such a hunger that she surprised herself.

It was more than just that, though. It was _more_ than lust…

It was _him._

It was _everything_ about him.

Her breath mingled with his, fragrant, like the fruit they'd had all those hours ago, and so sweet that she could anticipate the taste of his saliva.

" _Kathryn,_ " He said her name once but she didn't answer as her eyes drifted shut. Until he said it again, louder this time, "Kathryn, I don't..." And in a moment, she lost the scent of him, and his balminess was replaced with a breeze that cut through the forest. "I'm sorry," He looked down, almost embarrassed as he cleared his throat. "I-"

" _Oh!"_ A hand came up to hide her mouth and she felt a pit settle like a leaden weight in her stomach while her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Chakotay, I-"

"No," He stepped back towards her but she evaded him. "Kathryn, please-"

"It's all right," She tried lamely for a smile but couldn't hurt the misplaced pain and humiliation that marred her features. "I was just, uh, I'm sorry," was her final concession. "Let's just get back to work."

" _Kathryn-"_

Kathryn cleared her throat, unable to hide the hurt that laced her syllables, and picked up the phaser again. "Let's just… get back to work."


	13. Chapter 13

His actions and words had built a wall between them. Invisible so it was, its palpation was like a steel fortress – impenetrable and cold as they worked until the sun disappeared and the night's stars took their dominion over the sky.

A lonely, silent awkwardness was the only entity between them until he stopped his actions and relinquished the tools in his hand to the belt around his waist. Kathryn kept working, milling down the logs and measuring them to a precision. A quick study, her work in this was meticulous, like everything else she did.

Her clothing was wetted with exertion and a layer of dirt and grime coated her face and exposed skin. Chakotay looked down at himself and the same was true, and for a moment, he could think of nothing better than running down to the river, throwing off all of his clothes, and letting the cool water wash away the dirt and soreness.

"Kathryn," His soft voice broke the silence, but she ignored him. "Kathryn." Chakotay drew nearer to her and used his hands to stop her hurried movements. "We've done enough for the day. Let's go home."

Slowly, she gave a reluctant nod and replaced the phaser in the holster at her waist. She was still mortified – too embarrassed to speak or to look at him.

What had she been thinking?

She had been kicking herself about what had happened. It was inappropriate, she kept telling herself. More than that, though, and more to the point – Chakotay had turned her down. The only man on the planet! Kathryn gave an internal groan – it was excruciating.

"We've done enough work for today," He breathed in the cool night air, only now realising how chilled he was. "Tomorrow I was thinking we could take the shuttle over to the mountains and see what stone we can use for the foundation."

Kathryn listened, but said nothing in return as they walked towards the small shelter. "It won't be too hard, I don't think…" he kept on. "Maybe we can use the tractor beam or the transporters…." He stopped and pulled at her hand to halt her movement. "Kathryn, look at me. Please. I'm sorry, I-"

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Kathryn squared her shoulders and looked him squarely in the eyes. "I… misunderstood-"

"You didn't," He forced out before she could say anything more, and he watched the confusion play out over her face in the dim light emanating from their home. "You didn't misunderstand," Chakotay rubbed his eyes in frustration. "Dammit, I want to kiss you, Kathryn! So, so, badly that it aches. I've wanted to kiss you for nearly every second of every day for the past two years, but I don't want it to be like that. Not when you're vulnerable and feel sorry for me. That's not how I want to start this." He motioned in the air between them. "Can you understand that?"

Eyes wide, she let out a long breath.

"I wasn't pushing you away… well," he gave a weak smile. "I was, but we have our whole lives here, and I want to savour this with you."

"Oh." A giddy, girlish blush broke out over her cheeks while a warmth spread through every cell in her body as she breathed the shakily short response. For a moment, she hoped that the light coming from the shelter was dull enough to hide the deep rouge. "I thought-"

"I know what you thought," He tugged at her hand and drew an even bigger leer. "And I'm sorry."

"Okay," she felt foolish and not a little more embarrassed as she tried in vain to scrub away the blush from her cheeks.

Four deep dimples came out of hiding. "Okay?"

"Yes," She nodded once and took his hand, as she was so inclined to do. "Okay."

"Okay," He drew a cleaning breath and let it out. "Well…"

Kathryn rolled her eyes and a smile as big as his broke out over her cheeks. "Come on, Commander. I'll let you take the shower first and then we can start planning where we're going to take the shuttle to find the rock."

"Okay," He said again, turning back to continue his way back to the cabin. "Yes, okay..."

Her soft, throaty laughter echoed out into the stillness of the night. "Are you going to say anything else for the rest of the night?"


	14. Chapter 14

"It feels good to be clean," Kathryn sighed as she stepped out of the small bathroom in her nightclothes.

"I thought about going down to the river," He said, remembering his earlier machination. "It would be nice to have an actual water shower, for a change."

"That requires plumbing," She said obviously, sitting down beside him to eat the dinner he'd laid out. "We'll have to replicate the piping…"

"I know," He let out a long breath and took his eyes away from the console. "We'll use the shuttle's replicator."

"I do miss a good water shower, though," Kathryn sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly and nodded towards the console. "What've you found?"

"A mineral similar to granite," he snuffled and pointed to the range on the screen. "In the hills behind us. We'll take the shuttle in the morning and get the lay of the land."

"If we use the tractor beam we'll only have to go once, but mining it will be a different story."

"We can use a phaser on the rock to cut pieces and use the tractor beam to bring them back," he thought aloud and rested his cheek on his hand. "Arranging it is going to be another headache."

A tired silence lapsed between them before Kathryn broke it with a small laugh. "Did you see the monkey watching us today?"

"No," He chuckled, trying to think back. "Where was he?"

"In the trees," She smiled. "I think he was cross with us for cutting them down."

"Most likely," he said. "I think that monkey's taken to you."

"I think he's just curious," she cogitated while unproductively rubbing the tired from her eyes. "As curious about us as we are of him."

"I think…" She could see that mischief in his eyes. "That you just want a pet."

Kathryn took a deep breath and let it out slowly as memories of Molly clouded her conscience. "I do miss my dog," her answer was forlorn. "Molly. She was... she was my friend," she blew a laugh. "That sounds silly."

"No," Chakotay shook his head. "It doesn't."

"Did you have pets, Chakotay?"

"No," He said. "I don't remember that anyone did when I was growing up. The first time I saw a dog or a cat in anything other than a picture or a vision quest was when I was fifteen!"

"You're serious!" She laughed. "And what did you think?"

"Well," He hid his smile. "Then of course I wanted one."

"If we were back on Earth, I'd give you one of Molly's puppies."

"I wouldn't know the first thing to do with it!" He laughed.

"I'd tell you," Kathryn said pointedly. "And one day, after you got used to how much work it would be, you'd thank me."

"What if we just kept one of Molly's puppies together?" He smiled a cheeky, boyish grin. "That way, Molly would have a companion and you could just show me."

The thought sent another blush to her freckled cheeks until she remembered with whom she had left her dog. "I'm still engaged," She whispered suddenly. "I'm still engaged, Chakotay."

"To Mark."

"Yes," She looked down at her clasped hands, on whose fingers a ring no longer sat. "I'm engaged to Mark." Kathryn felt his eyes on her. "What does it say about me, that I'd forgotten?"

He shook his head, not know what to say other than what he thought. "It makes you human. Kathryn we've been missing for two years."

"I told him not to wait for me," She remembered. "I made him promise that if anything ever happened to me, he would take care of Molly and move on. I didn't want him to pine for my memory or be unhappy. Not that he would have pined," She laughed a nervous, self-effacing laugh. "Mark and I didn't have that kind of relationship."

"Mark," Kathryn emerged from the bathroom with her long hair wrapped in a towel. "Mark?"

"Kath," He looked up from the padd on his lap. "Yes?"

"I was thinking," She took a tentative seat on the bed. "We should talk before tomorrow."

"Talk?" Her companion scrunched up his face. "About what?"

Kathryn blew out a breath, "I think we've both always known that being in Starfleet entails a certain amount of risk."

"I know, Kath," Mark looked at her unimaginatively, as though she'd distracted him from something vital. "But nothing's going to happen. It's a two week mission. You said it yourself – it's routine."

"Still," Kathryn pleaded, taking his hand. "I think we should talk about it in case it's not."

"Okay," Reluctantly he put the padd down and gave her his full attention.

"If something happens-"

"Which it won't."

"If it does, I want you to give my things to my mother. There's a letter for her and one for Phoebe in the top drawer of my dresser. And take care of Molly ,please."

"All right," he smirked and kissed her cheek before taking back the padd. "But it'll be fine, Kath. And when you get back, we'll set a date."

"A date," she breathed a sigh, tying her pink silk robe tighter over the revealing neglige. "Yes, of course. We'll set a date."

"He was practical," She remembered the night they'd sat down before she left for the Badlands and made arrangements. "Yes, Mark would have been practical."

A pit settled in her companion's stomach as she got up abruptly. "Kathryn, we don't have to-"

"It's getting late," She let a smile encase her frown. "I should go to bed, Chakotay. It's been a long day."

He looked to her and then to the seat she'd vacated. "You haven't finished your dinner."

"It's all right," Kathryn said. "I'm not that hungry anymore. Goodnight, Chakotay."


	15. Chapter 15

He woke before her the next morning and headed out to the shuttle, familiarising himself with the controls as he manipulated the sensors. Tired, he took another long dreg of coffee and opened his eyes wider.

She cried last night, and muffled her sobs into her pillow. He knew she was trying to not to be conspicuous, but his heart broke with every ragged breath. He wanted to go to her, and not as a man who was interested, but as a friend with a shoulder to cry on.

He didn't though, and now in the light of morning he realised that maybe he should have. Dually, though, he thought that she was afforded a modicum of privacy. It wasn't fair that she shouldn't be allowed to grieve for the man she loved in private, without him listening in; it wasn't fair that she had been taken from him...

If only **he** hadn't drawn her from him, from that life that she so loved…

Her sobs settled early in the morning and her ragged breath evened out along a steady pace. He tiptoed around the shelter this morning and left as soon as he possibly could to avoid waking her.

Out of the front of the shuttle, Chakotay looked towards the mountains, jagged and covered with trees. He was hopeful, though, that they would get what they needed. This would be the first time they would see more of the planet – more than the small radius around their accommodation.

The data on the sensors distracted his attention as she stepped into the bay, "Good morning." Her voice was fresh and clear.

He smiled at the sound of her voice and looked up to greet her, instantly noticing the expanse of leg revealed by the shorts. "Good morning, Kathryn."

"I'm sorry about last night," She sat down in the seat opposite him, noticing the deep dark circles under his eyes. "I kept you up."

"Don't apologise," he said softly. "Are you ready to get going?"

"Mmhm," She breathed softly and pressed the sequence to lock the shuttle doors. "I'm excited to see more of the planet. I can't believe we haven't taken the shuttle out until now. It's been almost eleven weeks!"

"I thought the same," he glanced over at her. "But we've been busy with other things."

"And now we're building a house," Kathryn sighed. "Our own house."

"Yes," He said. "Are you ready?"

She felt the thrusters kick up under her feet and for the first time in a while she felt excited and exhilarated. "I see that smile," Chakotay said. "You want to fly this time?"

"Yes," she gave him a smiled look. "I don't trust you with our only shuttle."

"Ouch," he grinned.

"I'm only kidding."

"It's just as well," he ran manipulated the console and logged their flight plan before checking the phaser banks and tractor beam. "I don't have the best luck with shuttles…"

She took a deep breath and filled her lungs while watching the panorama before them, "It's beautiful here. I forget that sometimes."

"I think that's the first time I've heard you say something positive about this place."

Her face lit at his remark and she met his eyes before he pointed back to the viewscreen. "There. Those ranges."

"That's not far at all."

"I figure it'll be less of a power drain if we only have to porter the rock from a slight distance."

"Good thinking." Kathryn got up and headed for the replicator. "The smell of your coffee is making me want some. Fancy a refill?"

* * *

They worked all day, measuring the cutting the pieces precisely until they had enough. "Now the moment of truth," Chakotay breathed a sigh and mentally crossed his fingers while passing a prayer to his Spirits. "Will we be able to tractor it."

"I think so," Kathryn's fingers danced across the console. "Let's give it - a try."

They breathed a tandem sigh of relief when the rocks they'd quarried lifted off the ground with a facile simplicity. "I didn't think it would be that easy," he said, only half holding his breath until they arrived back at the clearing and set down the load.

"Neither did I," She winked, and let down the thrusters and just as quickly opened the hatch. "Tomorrow we can try laying the logs," long legs carried her outside to the fresh air. "Right now I'm starving!"

Outside the shuttle, he assayed their collective work and a satisfied grin stretched his lips. A tug on his hand brought him back to her and those dimples indented all the more. "It seems real now," he said. "Our own home."

"Yes," She said, sharing his pride before tugging his arm. "We can do more after dinner. Come on."

"You're impatient," He chided, laughing.

Kathryn rolled her eyes and opened the door to the shelter. "I'm hungry."

"What'll we have then?" His eyes sadly roamed the near-empty stasis container. "We don't have much."

"I'll finish what I didn't eat last night, I suppose." The mention of the night before brought its own special silence as she poured them some of the water she had filtered from the river.

"We don't have to talk about it," he said finally, before choking out his next few words. "About any of it. We'll just forget about what happened, if that's what you want."

Her eyes gave him a long, pleading look as he sat down slowly beside her and laid down the half-eaten sandwiches from the previous evening. "What do you want to do?"

Her lips twisted a wry smile and she looked up at the ceiling as though something humorous had caught her fancy. "We're the only two people on a planet, Chakotay. We're going to spend the rest of our lives here alone on this goddamn planet!"

He waited and let her rail until she calmed herself. "The life I left behind was half finished – all of it; my relationship with Mark, my command… I just want to finish something, Chakotay."

He watched her look at him; the way her eyes searched his, how her pupils dilated, the way she licked her lips. Peripherally, he watched her hand come up before he felt the delicate tips of her fingers on the skin of her forehead. "Is that all you want?"

She swallowed audibly and her breath came in tiny puffs, her face close to his that he could feel the small currents she was making on his skin. "No."

And so, with little to no thought, only instinct, he kissed her and stole the breath from her lungs. This time, there was no hesitation between them, and her lips opened easily under his without askance.

He tasted sweet, like the sugar and milk he'd had in his coffee. The thought made her giggle against his lips, breaking the seal before he made it again.

Gentle hands cupped her face while her arms wove around his neck. Being with his like this, kissing him, felt just like she thought it would, and the texture of his lips was like she'd imagined from the first day she'd met him and taken notice of them. Soft and full, she never wanted to stop pressing her mouth against his – never wanted to stop tasting him.

He ran out of breath too quickly and pulled away while still keeping her close to him, sharing her air. He was boyishly unable to hide the smile that dented on his cheeks, nor was she able to hide her own joy. "Well, uh…" Chakotay made a giddy nervous laugh, one that he'd never made before, that radiated a sense of contentment and peace.

"Shh," She giggled back and kissed lips once again, quickly this time, and turned to the food in front of her. "Just be here with me."


	16. Chapter 16

Kathryn laid back against the aromatic grass and stretched out in the hot sunshine, enjoying the way it tingled her skin after a long day in the shuttle. The smell of freshly cut wood hung piquantly in the air, and it reminded her that there was still work to be done.

"You know…" She felt the chortled timbres in his voice as he depressed the space next to her. "We're not going to get any work done if we keep doing this?"

"Keep on what?" Kathryn's voice was innocent. "We're not doing anything…"

"Exactly," his fingers tickled her side and made her squirm.

"Chakotay!" She pushed his fingers away and lay for a while in the contented silence that a day to themselves always brought. "You know this was always the best part of those dreaded camping trips my parents used to take us on."

"What was?"

"This," She turned in closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder. "Enjoying the sun when there was nothing else to be done."

"There is something else to be done," he teased, pointing backward to the mound of logs they'd tractored to the site.

She thumped her head once on his shoulder in mock scolding. "Will you stop?"

"What ever happened to work-a-day Janeway?"

Her alto sang with amusement. "Did you just make that up?"

"Maybe…"

She rolled her eyes and snuggled closer to his side. "I used to hate those summer camping trips, but now I miss them. I miss being with my family when we were all together."

"Isn't that the way it always goes?" He remembered times in his own life- times with his father when they were walking through rainforests or deserts – times when he resented the very air he breathed, but now would give anything to do again. "I remember times when I was with my father, and all I wanted was to get away from him and his ideas of tradition. But now…" the breath left his lungs in a forlorn rush. "I wish I had those times to do over."

"Tell me about him, about Kolopak."

"He was…" Chakotay conjured his best-loved image of his father. "There was always a smile on his face, and I could always hear him telling somesilly story," he laughed at the recollection. "And he was kind, it didn't matter who it was, he just loved unconditionally."

Kathryn tangled her fingers in his soft cotton shirt and held him. "He sounds like you."

"He was better than me," He contradicted. "I wasn't very good to him, and now I have to live with that, and the fact that I never said that I was sorry for what I did."

"You gave up your life to protect what he gave his for, Chakotay. That means something, and he would be proud of you. He was proud of you."

His fingers tangled in the soft messiness of her ponytail. "I wish I could go back and do things over with him; that I listened more to the things that he told me and tried to teach me."

"You'll tear yourself up thinking that way," Kathryn remembered her own struggle after her father died. "When my father died, I thought that my life was over. I'd lie in my bed for days without eating. Sometimes I wouldn't sleep, I'd just lie there and wished that I'd died along with him," His grasp on her tightened at the words that she spoke, as though he was baying the thought of her being anywhere but here with him. "Phoebe yanked me out of bed one day, and I was a mess, I remember! And she told me I couldn't do it anymore, that I had to live in the present for her and my mother."

"I'm sorry, Kathryn," he kissed her hair and curled closer to her until there was no space between them.

"I still miss him," she told him. "I still think about him every day. I'll ask his advice on things in my head, almost like I'm praying to him."

"I do that, too."

"We're a pair then," She kissed the underside of his jaw before she pushed him down and used his chest as a springboard to get up.

"Ouch!" He laughed and took her proffered hand.

She smiled and pulled him along back to the shuttle. "The day will get away from us if we're not careful. How long do you think it'll take us to finish?"

"Not long," the inside of the shuttle felt cold as he took his seat at the helm. "I think it'll take us the longest to stack the wood and make the walls."

"And then we have to worry about plumbing and electricity," Her response was sullen as she looked miserably at him. "You'd think the mosquito could have been considerate enough to bite B'Elanna as well…"

"That would have been handy," he chuckled. "Though I know for a fact that you're just as good an engineer."

The comment brought a loud guffaw. "Where did you hear that?"

"Some of the crew on the lower decks…"

"Gossiping about me, Commander?"

"Just passing by," he said innocently. "Keeping abreast of the crew..."

Kathryn rolled her eyes and started the shuttle up again. "Well whatever you heard, that isn't the case."

"I know for a fact that it is," Chakotay's long fingers tapped over the console and they started the work again. "But I also know that if we don't get back to work, we'll be here all night and we won't be able to keep on schedule."

"Have you always been this much of a spoil sport?" She asked, mock peevishly.

"Yes," He said seriously. "I didn't have any friends at the Academy."

"You're kidding."

He turned his head and gave her a fresh-faced, dimpled smile. "No, that was you."

"Chakotay!" She doubled over in hilarity. "It's only funny because it's true! I didn't have any friends at the Academy. I think it was because I wastoo competitive."

"You?" He looked at her sideways, careful not to divert all of his attention away from the tractored log. "I don't believe it... We have to figure out how we're going to do this," Chakotay examined the work they'd already done with the stone foundation. "We'll have to stack the logs on each side and then use beams to hold them together."

"One of us is going to have to do it by hand while the other is in the shuttle."

"What if we erected a containment field around the stacked logs while we did it?" He wondered out loud. "That might be a little more efficient…"

* * *

They worked until the sun went down, making more plans and dreaming up ideas until their eyes wouldn't stay open anymore. Clumsily, she kissed him goodnight, nearly missing his lips in her fatigue. "Goodnight," he offered, mouth inelegantly against hers.

She beamed a tired grin and sauntered off, disappearing behind her partition where the bed welcomed her, day clothes and all. "I was thinking," her words started to slur the moment her head hit the pillow.

"Hmm?"

"I was thinking… about the house."

"Oh?"

"About our bedrooms."

"What…" He yawned and turned towards her side of the partition where he could see her outline in the Plexiglas. "Were you thinking?"

"I was thinking we should just have one."

A tired smile stretched his cheeks painfully. "Okay."

She pressed her face near to the opaque glass, her smile matching the breadth of his. "Okay?"

"Mmhm. Goodnight, Kathryn."

"Goodnight, Chakotay."


	17. Chapter 17

_That night she dreamt about the house._

 _There were echoes of laughter on its thick walls from someone she couldn't see; it wasn't his, and neither was it hers. The floor under her feet felt solid, different from that of the shelter, as she walked in and out of the rooms trying to find the source of the rich amusement. The rooms looked like she imagined them, and a fresh coolness bathed the air that she breathed._

 _"Chakotay?" She called his name and waited for an answer, but he didn't reply. So, she called again, "Chakotay, are you there?"_

 _All that responded was the sound of happiness that confused her at the same time that it gave warmth and comfort. "Where are you?"_

 _She walked into the first room off her right, where she thought she heard the sound, but when she entered she found no one, only a bed with a painting over it. She'd never seen it before, but it was beautiful – carven and sturdy. Its lines sang of him, and the works of his hands._

 _"Chakotay?" Kathryn whispered his name again as she traced the edges of the bed, whose sheets and blankets were rumpled, chaotic, and as she put her hand out to touch them she felt that they were still warm._

 _She imagined loving him here, under the painting that she half recognised with the light autumn breeze tickling at their bare skin. She imagined his body covering hers and the weight of him between her legs; the hard heat of him pressing intimately against the wetness he would inevitably find... There was still so much newness between them, but when she saw the bed, all she wanted was to skip it and end at the part where they expressed what they felt through their flesh._

 _For a moment she had forgotten about the laughter, but there it was again. It sounded like Phoebe's when she was young, but it was still different somehow. She called her lover's name again, though she was sure it wasn't him. Nothing, though, replied until she felt distinct and heavy warmth on her arm – something gently tugging her away from his place._

"Kathryn?" He said her name again and she opened her eyes groggily.

"Chakotay," Kathryn looked at him glassily. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"That laughter," She yawned and sat up in her bed. "I heard laughter."

"You were talking in your sleep," he smiled and offered a hand, which she took and he tugged her up. "We slept in. It's nearly noon."

"That's becoming a habit," She couldn't stifle another fatigued drowse as she rubbed her eyes again. "Oh, I need coffee."

"We never even took off our clothes last night," He laughingly pointedly between the two of them still in their shorts and t-shirts as he walked over to the console on the far wall. "You said you dreamt of someone laughing?"

"Mmm," Her legs carried her outside to the warm summer's morning and she looked at the skeleton of a home they'd built over the last week. A towering stack of logs stood at the forest edge, and for a second she imagined them all coming together to make that home that she loved so much for those few moments that she'd revelled in it. "I don't know who it was."

"Here."

An aromatic mug of hot coffee found its way into her hands. She took a loud, relieved sip and murmured her thanks while still keeping her eyes on the house. "I dreamt of it."

His voice was soft and dreamy, "What about it did you dream of?"

"Of our rooms," She whispered. "And what they would look like."

A warm arm fitted its way around her waist and she leaned against him, breathed him in – enjoyed the slow inevitability of them. For a long time, subliminally at first, she had wanted this with him - maybe because it appealed to her sense of the romantic… like those silly holoprogrammes she used to run.

It hadn't been this way with Mark, not even with Justin. Both of those romances had been practical and goal- oriented. There was a gain to each of them and a certain logic that followed their course.

Justin was meticulous and precise, like her. And everything that he did had a specific purpose, and she was no exception to that. In retrospect, she discerned tat they never would have worked, at least not with her being who she was now. And Mark… Mark was a good man who deserved more than the spilt love that she'd offered him and been presented with in return.

She felt his lips at her hair and smiled. "I was thinking about going down to the river before we got started. Maybe… after we're done with the house, we can build a boat and explore."

"We could go camping," She grinned up at him.

"That we would. We couldn't bring the bathtub, though."

"Well that's all right," she snickered. "I'll have the river!"

Chakotay shared her lighthearted enchantment pushed himself off the side of the house. "So, how 'bout it, Captain?"

She gave a shrug set down her coffee cup on the ledge before he was he tugging on her hand and leading her down the short trail they'd made to the river. "Wait, we're going now?!"

"Why not?"

"Well," She quickened her pace to keep up with him. "We still have work to do!"

"We can do it later!" He said, pulling her faster.

"Chakotay!"

"Just a quick swim!" Dimpled cheeks called back. "It'll feel good! I promise!"

His rich laughter echoed across the blue crystal water just as he began throwing off his shorts and top. Kathryn blushed at the sight of his body; beautifully scored golden angles as the sun glinted off of it.

She had always been aware of him and the virile masculinity he exuded, but never had she seen him like this. Her face must've blazoned her every giddy thought as he caught her staring. "Didn't your mother tell you it was rude to stare, Kathryn?" He winked.

A rouge a deep as her command red crept up her neck as she hid her eyes. "I'm only kidding!" He laughed and threw off the last garment before tumbling into the water. "Come on, Kathryn, the water's great!"

Standing at the top of the rocky bank, she scowled at him. "You did that on purpose."

"Maybe," he glinted. "Come on, I won't look."

She shook her head and gave a smile as she started at the button of her shorts. "Well," she pointed towards the mountains at the far side of the lake. "You said you wouldn't look. Turn around."

"Kathryn!" He gave an exaggerating roll of his eyes, dipped his head underwater, and disappeared only to emerge facing the other direction. "Well! Come on!

"I'm coming," she rolled her eyes, laughing as she stripped down to nothing and stepped into the warm water. "It is nice."

"Can I turn around now?"

Her arms brought her closer to him, a Machiavellian smile tugging at her lips. "Uh huh."

"I know that smile," he made a face at her. "You're up to something."

"Me?" She came closer to him in the water.

"Stay right there," his arm came up out of the water in a gesture to bay her coming any closer.

"I wish you could see your own face," she laughed and the movement made her sink a little and swallow a quaff of water, making her cough, but doing nothing to stop the laughter. "You actually look terrified."

"I am terrified."

They shared a smile in the peace of the water while their feet treaded in the depth. "This was a good idea," She said finally.

"All of my ideas are good."

She laughed outright, "I have a good few anecdotes that prove that isn't the case."

"I'm sure."

"We're not going to spend all day here, are we?"

"This coming from the person who kept taking breaks yesterday to sleep in the sun."

She sniggered, "I was tired!"

"Well it's my turn to be tired," he winked.

The movement of her arms made ripples in the water. "Fair enough."

"So tell me about your dream."

"I already told you," She flicked water at him and gave a cheeky grin.

"I want to hear it again," He said, drawing nearer to her before she backed away with a lark, like a mare priming to be tamed. "Please, tell me again."


	18. Chapter 18

Sweat beaded and trickled down his back in waves to collect at the top of his light shorts. "I'm going to be drenched by the time we're done today," he said.

"I'll bet," he heard her smile over the communicator.

"I keep thinking of my father," He said over the sound of the nail gun. "He would be in his element doing this… I think we're just about finished with this wall. I'll step away and we can let the containment field down and see if it holds."

"Fingers crossed," She said. "Whenever you're ready." There was a pregnant silence, filled with the questions she wanted to ask. "Tell me."

She watched as an odd expression covered his face and his shoulders let down the tension wrought by the work. "It's funny the things that I remember about him. For a long time I tried to forget everything."

"Why?" Her voice echoed over the communicator and bounced slightly off the new wall. "Why did you try to forget?"

He walked around the new structure while he thought on her question. "Sometimes remembering things is hard. And what you remember isn't always pleasant."

"I can understand that."

"I loved my father," He pushed against the wall, futilely with the containment field in place. "But he also… annoyed me. Does that make sense?"

Kathryn huffed another laugh. "You think you're the only one who's felt that way about their parents? I think that sums up adolescence."

"I know that," He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the bottom of his damp shirt. "But it was more than just an adolescent contention. I was annoyed with everything that he stood for, and those things were good. Not all of them, but none of them were held with any malice or greed. All he wanted was to make a world for our people and to preserve the traditions that meant something to him. And for those things I loathed him."

Another silence filled the space between them as Chakotay hopped down off the rise of the foundation. "I think we can take the containment field down now. I think it'll hold."

Kathryn manipulated the controls that illuminated the console in front of her and held her breath as the field shimmered away, leaving a solid wall standing even in its absence. "We did it," She breathed over the comm. "You did it."

A sense of pride filled him. "We did it. The first wall of our home," He said, walking back over to the structure and pushing against the wall before leaning on it. "What do you think?"

Kathryn met him at the structure, appraising it up close instead of from the shuttle's main window. "A home," She looked appreciatively at the stacked logs and leaned against them with him. "Our home."

"Yes," A smiled and moved a tendril of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. "Our home."

If he had kissed her then, she would have let him, but infuriatingly he was content to watch her – appreciate her being here with him in this moment. "I never had my own home," Kathryn said. "Only Starfleet apartments."

He smiled and let his hand trail down her arms and tangle with hers as they walked around the foundation that they were to lay with wood. "So," He looked at her and smiled. "This here will be the kitchen."

"Mmm," She covered her eyes from the last vestiges of the evening sun. "And that," she pointed opposite to the space they were standing in. "Is the living room."

"It'll be good to have space to put the rest of the furniture and our things."

Kathryn nodded and thought of her trinkets – her gramophone, a few vases and pots, paintings she'd done in the time they were here and some from aboard the ship. "I can see it," she closed her eyes. "All of it."

For the moment he was content just to be with her until the rumble of his stomach pierced the space between them. "Sorry," he laughed. "I'm starving."

Kathryn's laugh mirrored his as she pulled on his hand and nodded back towards the shelter. "So am I, but I haven't been working outside all afternoon."

"What you're doing is just as important," he allayed her insecurity.

"Still."

"Stop, Kathryn. What I'm doing doesn't require two people."

"We'd get the job done faster if you let me help," She argued.

"We wouldn't," he said.

"We would," she stopped in front of him, indignant. "Chakotay let me help."

He closed his eyes. "What if something happens to you?"

"Doing what?" She eyed him cynically. "Using a nail gun?"

He met her steely blue irises and stared her down. "I need you in the shuttle to adjust the containment field."

"I'm sitting on my hands all day, Chakotay, while you're working. I don't like doing nothing."

"Fine," He breathed out once, knowing he'd lost.

"Fine?" She stepped back.

His shoulders rose and fell as he walked past her into the cramped shelter. "Fine."

"Well okay then," Kathryn nodded once, satisfied. "I'll help tomorrow."

"Have you always been like this?"

"Like what?" She smiled and brushed past him.

"Stubborn and impossible."

She laughed and lightened the air in between. "Yes, if we were back on Earth I would introduce you to my mother who would tell you that I was always impossible."

"I'll bet she has plenty of stories."

"Too many," she chuckled. "She tried to tell Justin once when he came to meet them."

"Justin?"

Kathryn stopped the movements of her hands. "My first fiancé."

"You were engaged before Mark?"

"Yes," She said, turning to him. "For a few months to the man who died along with my father."

"Oh, Kathryn," He looked at her mournfully. "I'm sorry."

She shrugged once, "I don't really remember him anymore. I've forgotten his voice, his face… everything about our relationship was so… rushed."

He leaned down and kissed her cheek before he went back to preparing their dinner. "Tell me."

"When I met him I was so young and it felt like I fell in love in a second. Justin was charming and confident and he wanted me. He told me that…" She gave a morbid laugh, remembering something half embarrassing. "But everything about our relationship was so driven by Starfleet and our mutual desire to rise to the top. Now," she emphasised the word. "Now I don't think that our engagement, or our marriage, would have lasted…" she trailed off and absently took the full plates to the table. "Anyway. It's in the past now."

"I'm sorry, Kathryn."

"There's nothing to be sorry for," She kissed his cheek like he'd done a few moments ago and turned her attention to their dinner. "Thank you for this. Tomorrow if we finish early enough we'll try cooking some of the squash from the garden."

Chakotay took a bite into the sweet tomato and let its sweetness dribble down his chin, "Neelix would be proud to know how well the tomatoes are growing."

She smiled and rubbed away the trail of juice from his chin with her thumb. "I miss Neelix."

"So do I," He grabbed her hand and held. "I miss Kes, too. I miss their kindness."

"Yes," Kathryn ran her fingers in between his before disentangling them. "I miss all of them. I see them in my dreams when I sleep. I hope they're happy… that they're safe."

"They're in good hands," Chakotay said. "They'll be all right."

"Just like us," She whispered, finally, before taking a bite of her dinner.

"Yes," smiling, he turned to his own plate and took a hearty bite. "Like us."


	19. Chapter 19

Kathryn yawned as she sauntered sleepily out of her enclave, "I smell coffee."

He smiled as he handed her a cup. "I thought we'd get an early start today."

"Mmm," She yawned over the brim of the steel mug before she caught sight of the odd colour in his cup. "What are you drinking?"

"Green tea," He looked down. "It's healthy."

"It's green," She made a face.

"It's healthy," he laughed. "Healthier - at least- than the gallons of that brown muck you drink too much of."

"Coffee," Kathryn corrected. "Is the finest organic suspension ever devised."

He laughed at that and took another sip of his tea. "I'll take your word for it. I was thinking about the house…" Chakotay replaced the mug on the table and brought the console closer to them. "Today we could try and get these this wall up," he pointed. "We'll have to put the partitions between the rooms in before we think about this one."

Kathryn nodded and swallowed loudly. "Mm, it's coming together very nicely."

"The roof won't be too hard," he talked out loud. "We already have the frame… we just need to think of plumbing."

"That won't be too hard. We can replicate the parts from the shuttle's replicator," she pointed behind her. "We'll save this one for our food."

He sighed and let the breath leave his chest in a huff. "Ready to get started?"

Kathryn gave a broad smile and downed the last of her coffee, an action to which he made a face. "Don't you sneer, Chakotay," she shook her head. "Finest substance ever devised. One day you'll see that I'm right!"

* * *

The hot sun pelted down on her fair skin, making her sweat as much as he did yesterday. But it felt good, she decided, even if it meant more freckles at the end of the day.

"Phoebe would love this," Kathryn said, ending with a laugh at the conjured image of her sister. "She was always out making things with her hands. Sculptures, little carvens… She made all of frames for her own paintings. She was amazing," Kathryn let it all out in a breath. "I never told her that."

She leaned back on the ladder and wiped a drop of sweat that was about the drip off of her nose. "It's like you said – sometimes it's hard to remember."

Chakotay looked at her, removing the sunglasses from his eyes and pushed away all the sweat that had collected on them. "Tell me more about Phoebe."

She smiled not a little mournfully. "Phoebe and I were opposites," Kathryn remembered. "In everything – the way we thought; the way we looked; how we talked. No one believed we were sisters!" Kathryn gave another laugh and went back to the task in front of her. "I have a picture of her in the house. I'll show you later."

"Tell me more."

That smile widened as she positioned the nail gun and drove another set into the beam. "Phoebe's a little taller than I am. Not by much, but enough that she thinks she can bully me."

"Did she bully you?" He laughed, watching the girlish impishness over her sun kissed skin.

"No," Kathryn chuckled. "I bullied her."

"Now that I can believe!"

Kathryn couldn't help the next round of mirth that bubbled up from her gut. "Her hair was curly, and it fell in soft ringlets down her back – like my mother's. When I look at Phoebe I see my mother."

"Who do you look more like?"

"My father," She spoke loudly over the sound of the gun. "Edward. He was so proud of that."

"He must have been handsome," Chakotay thought of the man and tried to mesmerize his image.

She smiled brighter at his compliment, "Yes, he was. Dashing, I used to think. But then I think every little girl thinks her daddy is handsome."

"What about your mother?"

"Gretchen," Kathryn breathed out her name wistfully. "Tall, like my father – like Phoebe. They used to tease me that I was the runt."

He looked over at her standing on the ladder but still reaching as high as her arms could. "I'm sure you didn't have any trouble keeping up."

She cast him a wicked look, "I had to make up for my height somehow."

"In spades," he chuckled. "Tell me more about Phoebe."

She took a deep breath of warm air and let it suffuse her lungs and colour her thoughts about her sister. "I tried not to think of her for so long that I'm starting to forget her. We never saw eye to eye. I never understood why she wanted to be an artist. I couldn't understand it – understand her, because we were so different. All I wanted was Starfleet and the prestige and fulfilment that I saw that it brought to daddy. But Phoebe was a free spirit – imaginative and playful. Now I wish I had taken more time to be with her – to understand her."

"I feel that way about my own sister," The sentiments that she expressed resonated in his own gut when he thought of the tall, dark-haired young woman that he'd left behind. "I think she felt the same way about me as you felt about Phoebe. She never wanted to leave Dorvan, or my people – our parents. And all I wanted to do was run as fast and as far as I could. Now I feel like I never knew her – never took the time to know her."

She wanted to embrace him in that moment, and hold his wet skin close to hers while she kissed away the sadness that littered his soft timbre. "I feel that way about Phoebe," Kathryn said softly. "I wish there was some way to tell her how I felt and make things right."

"So do I," He pursed his lips and turned - glad his eyes were hidden by the glasses. "But we'll just have to hope that somehow they know that we loved them and that we're sorry."

"That was the hardest part," Kathryn thought back to the horror of two years prior – the moment they learned they were light years from home, and that she would never see her family again in her lifetime. "It was the first thing I thought of after I learned how long it would take us to get home – that I wouldn't be at Phoebe's wedding. I was going to be her maid of honour. I was so surprised when she asked me," Kathryn remembered. "We used to fight all the time. Phoebe didn't like Mark, she thought I was settling after Justin, but then again she didn't like Justin," she laughed. "I could never win with her!"

He laughed along with her but listened as she continued.

"I was going to throw her a wedding shower when I got back. I can't tell you how hard it was to plan the damn thing! I didn't have any idea what to do. I kept having to ask my mother! After everything, I just didn't want to let her down. I had everything planned down to the last detail."

"She would have loved it, Kathryn," He said softly. "She knew – knows."

"Mm," Kathryn's shoulders sagged, crestfallen as she stepped down the ladder. "I think this wall will hold. We should start on the partitions before we finish today."

He nodded and followed her lead back inside the shuttle. "I need to look at the plans once more. Then we need to set up the laser projector."

The shuttle was nearly cold as compared to the heat of the outside. Kathryn shivered as she sat down. "The moment of truth," she crossed her fingers like a superstitious young girl as he let the containment field down.

"Good job," He breathed in relief. "If we start on the kitchen today, then that's the main part. The rest won't take too long."

"Mm," She sat back, satisfied by the work of their hands. "I understand it now."

The leather on the chair felt good against his back and sent shivers of cool down to his toes. "What?"

"Why Phoebe loved to make things," she pointed out the shuttle's main window to the structure that was looking more and more like a home. "I find it very satisfying now: making something meaningful."

He flashed handsome dimples and passed a laugh as he watched her. "I used to grumble at my father for dragging me away from my studies to help him build houses, but now I'm grateful for it."

She grinned. "We're a pair then aren't we?"

"How about…" Chakotay groaned at the protest his muscles made when he got up. "We get some lunch and look back over the plans."

She winked and followed him out the shuttle and back into the shelter, "I'll never say no to food that I don't have to cook."

He rolled his eyes and took some bread out of the stasis container. "I promise you, Kathryn, that for as long as I'm able, you'll never have to cook."

"I hope that's a long time, then," she said seriously, reminded of the inevitable day when one of them would leave the other.

"I won't leave you, Kathryn," he said earnestly.

"You can't promise that," She whispered, looking up at him with guarded eyes. "Something could happen to you and I'd be alone here. With no one."

His hand reached down and tangled with hers. "I won't leave if you promise me the same."

She gave him a lopsided smile, "where would I go?"

A memory of the not so distant past stabbed him in the gut. "You almost left me."

"I know." She thought back to the night of the plasma storm. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," He leaned down and kissed her forehead tenderly before he turned back to their lunch. "Just don't ever leave me."

Actions


	20. Chapter 20

"Ouch!" Chakotay pulled his hand up abruptly and laughed at himself. "That'll remind me to sand these floors."

Concerned, she ambled down the ladder. "Did you get a splinter?"

"Mmm," He gnawed at the pierced finger. "I did. Small one."

"The small ones always hurt the most. Like paper cuts," She gave a smile and pulled at his hand as her sunglasses fell down her nose. "I can't see anything," she said, turning the reddened digit this way and that.

"I think I chewed it out."

"Charming," She glared. "Next time let me look at it before you chew on it. We'll get it out with a pair of tweezers and make sure it's all out. Does it still feel like there's something there? I'll get my magnifying glass."

He pressed one finger against the other. "No. I don't think so. It's just sore."

"Aw," She gave him a look that she'd give to a little boy. For a moment he imagined that – imagined her with a little boy, soothing his tear-wetted face when he skinned his knee or got a cut.

The wistful ache that played out over his dark features mesmerised her. "What?" She asked.

"Nothing," he smiled.

Someday he would tell her of all the things he held close to his heart since he'd met her – since he'd started to love her.

She smiled cryptically back at him and slipped her sunglasses back over her eyes. "You're a curious man, Mr Chakotay."

Her statement made him laugh. "I've been told that before."

"I'm sure," Kathryn sniggered. "Tall, dark, mysterious Maquis with the tattoo over his eye..."

This time the laughter bubbled up from his gut. "So that's how you see me."

"First impressions are everything," She replied with a languid voice while she conjured the first image of him that she'd seen in person on her view screen now nearly three years ago.

His next words were laced with every bit of dimpled skin on his cheeks, "I won't say what I thought of you then – Ouch!" He rubbed the spot on his bicep where the dulled edge of a nail had pelted off of him. Making a mock-sour face he grimaced up at her.

"Careful, Mr Chakotay," Kathryn waved her finger at him, unable to hide the laughter that came so freely.

"You could have taken my arm off!" He frowned.

"It'd take a lot more than a dulled nail to do that. Are you going to tell me?"

"Well not anymore…" still laughing, he turned from her back to the projector he'd set up on the floor that projected a set of red lines along the proposed room's margins. "And don't throw anymore nails at me."

Her gaiety was the only entity that filled the brief stillness between them. "You're staring at the wall. Is something on your mind?"

"I was just thinking," his hands spread wide to indicate the unfinished wall. "Instead of cutting down more wood we could make this wall glass. It would give us a good view of the mountains."

"I'm not opposed," She said, stepping back down the ladder to join him. "I didn't hurt your arm, did I?"

"No," He laughed and reached for her hand. "I was just kidding."

"When do you think we'll finish? It's getting cooler, I think. Especially at night."

"Not long now," He breathed out a sigh. "The hardest part will be he plumbing and environmental controls that we can adapt from the shelter."

"It doesn't feel like we've been here for four months, does it?"

"It doesn't," Chakotay breathed out, thinking of how quickly that time had gone by. "It seems like it was just yesterday that Tuvok told us they were leaving orbit."

"I wonder where they are now."

"I don't know. Safe, I hope, wherever they are."

"Yes," she agreed quietly. "Our life out there was…" Kathryn struggled for the right word. "So…"

"Complicated," was his chuckled suggestion.

"Yes." Kathryn took a breath of the cooling air. "Different. Sometimes I think back to what's happened over the past three years and I don't believe it. Some of the experiences we've had here in the Delta Quadrant I was never prepared for."

"That didn't mean that you did know how to handle them. We barely would have survived the first week here if it hadn't been for your ingenuity most of the time."

She laughed at the sincerity of his words. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Chakotay," Kathryn stood on her tippy toes to kiss his smooth cheek. "And you know that's not true."

He looked at her like her would a little girl who wasn't able to understand adult words. Soft, kind eyes with sunset laden crinkles filled her when she thought of him with a little girl, using that same expression that spoke of unflagging love and infinite gentleness.

"What?" Chakotay asked softly.

Kathryn drew a deep breath, in an instant forgetting what they'd been talking about. "Nothing. What were you saying?"

He smiled and tugged her closer. "We were talking about the house, I think."

"About windows instead of walls."

"Yes, what do you think?"

"I think it's a good idea," Kathryn leaned her head against his shoulder and enjoyed the comfort that he brought her. "A very good idea. And I've always wanted skylights in the ceiling of a house."

"Then we'll have skylights," he promised. "As many as you want."

"At least one in the bedroom and one in the bathroom. We'll become permanent lay- abouts if we don't have the sun to wake us."

"We're already lay-abouts," he chuckled. "Looking back, I can't imagine how we were up at o'six hundred on the ship every day."

She shared his amusement. "We'd better get back to work. Do you need help in the shuttle to stack the next wall?"

"Yes," he tugged at her hand. "Thank you. And then we'll finish the rest tomorrow."

"We'll need to establish plumbing now," she prattled, following his wake back into the cold cabin.

"Mm," he nodded once, falling into contemplation. "We can replicate the parts in the morning. Kathryn?"

"Yes," she answered him absently while she looked over the schematics they kept up.

"Do you still think about it?"

"About what?"

"About the things we did out there, about things that happened."

Her fingers stopped their movements and she looked at him slowly. "Yes," she said softly. "I think of them all the time. I think of the people we've met – the places we've visited and I see them all when I close my eyes."

"Who do you think of?"

"I think of Caylem, the man who thought I was his daughter. We were on the Mokra home world, and- "

"I remember," he said. "You went missing and I was worried. You, B'Elenna and Tuvok… I was prepared to tear that whole planet up looking for you. "

She nodded, thinking of the precious necklace that she kept in the drawer near her bed. "I think of him, and I think of the face of that young Vhnorian girl who we sent to die thinking that we were going to save her… What do you think of?"

"Too much," he nodded. "Too much has happened already. Now I've made you sad," he noted the sadness on her face. "I'm sorry."

She smiled sweetly at him. "Just because remembering is hard doesn't mean it's not necessary. I've been thinking a lot about it, though. Especially what would have happened if we were to get home…"

"What do you mean?"

"We've broken the Prime Directive so many times, Chakotay."

"Not advertently, Kathryn," he stopped what he was doing to sit nearer to her. "And when we did it, we had no choice."

"I'm just not sure Starfleet would have seen it like that."

Chakotay remembered the litany of regulations that he'd memorised as a cadet. "None of those regulations were written to apply to a ship or a captain in the situation that we had been thrown into."

Kathryn rubbed her temples, trying vainly to bay a headache. "But that doesn't make it any easier. I only ever wanted to do what was right."

"And you did," he said gently. "You are."

She nodded once and he squeezed her hand before he started to pull away. But she pulled him back and looked at him seriously. "You don't have to palliate me because I was your captain."

"Kathryn," he let out a frustrated laugh at her name. "And you don't need my validation. You know what you did was right, and when it wasn't – now it doesn't matter. It's all been done."

"I know that."

"What's this about, Kathryn?"

"I don't know," she let her answer out in a short breath. "I'm sorry."

He took his seat on the ledge beside her again and tipped her gaze to meet his. "I know this isn't the life you wanted or imagined for yourself."

"No," she shook her head. "It's not. Sometimes, in some moments, I think it's better, but then it isn't."

"I know."

"You're happy here, aren't you, Chakotay?"

He couldn't lie so he told the truth. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I'm here with you, Kathryn. And that's all I've wanted since I met you."

Her heart broke at his loving sincerity. "We've known each other for two years, but I feel like I've known you before I understood how to breathe. Does that even make sense?"

"Yes." He nodded once and went to kiss her forehead like he was becoming accustomed to, but she evaded him and instead met his lips with her own.

She smiled genuinely, her sadness broken through. "Thank you. I, uh, guess we should get back to work."

"Mm," Chakotay can't resist kissing her again before moving back his own spot, anticipating the completion of their house – a life full of Kathryn. "I guess we should…"


	21. Chapter 21

Kathryn woke that morning before him, anticipating the day in the near future when she could close a door between the bedroom and the kitchen, negating the need to be so quiet with her movements.

The mornings were getting colder now, and the small hairs on her arm stood up as the cool air met her skin when she walked outside the cabin. It smelled like autumn, and she filled her lungs with the fresh scent.

The garden was coming along so nicely now with the crops growing taller, reaching their leaves up towards the abundant sunlight. One crop of tomatoes hung fecund, pulling on the leaves before she started to pick them. For a moment Kathryn thought of the garden her mother tended back in Indiana. Kathryn hadn't taken much notice of the plants back then – the study of them was too banal and something she relegated to Phoebe and Gretchen. But she found it rewarding now; planting the seeds and watching them grow – eating the product of their labours. It was a different kind of life.

She made makeshift a basket with the front of her T-shirt and started to pick the ripened tomatoes. They looked sweet and she couldn't wait to show them to Chakotay when he woke up.

Kathryn turned back to the shelter, but stopped before she reached the door to look at the home they were building. Without thought, she started walking towards the structure. It was small – only big enough for the two of them, now. It would be easier to make something modest and then build on it as time passed if they needed.

The rough stone of the front steps felt ragged and cold on her bare feet. She looked down and watched her step as she crossed over onto the wooden floor. It felt smoother now after yesterday when Chakotay had sanded it, but she was still wary after his splinter.

The home felt like it had in her reverie. Still just a rough skeleton, she used her imagination to fill in what was not readily apparent; a fireplace by the far wall ablaze with a warmth that would fill the small rooms in the cooler seasons; a table made by his hands, piled treacherously with padds and empty coffee cups and samples she'd collect from the environment; the couch that stood in the stasis unit covered in blankets... The imaginings brought a sense of peace that filled her in this place – in her home. Their home.

She thought of him in this space - of all the wonderful things made by him. What a wonder, she thought, to find oneself so far from home only to fall in love. Even more unbelievable – to fall in love with the man she was sent to capture. Kathryn remembered back to her last days at Starfleet before she'd disembarked on her ill-fated mission.

Dangerous was a word headquarters had used to describe him in their initial briefing. Dangerous and a nuisance. The descriptors had come from Admiral Caldwell, whose eyes had been stern in warning and his voice all the more austere. Kathryn had left the room that day with her shoulders held high. Her mission was important, she thought. She was helping to bring peace to a precarious situation, and Chakotay with his motley crew of bandits were an impediment. But what she had been told and made to believe was so very different from what she felt...

Kathryn had studied him meticulously in the weeks leading up to her departure. She had scoured top-level security databases and read everything she could about this Maquis firebrand. She spent her nights reading and re-reading his lecture notes, his syllabi… she was fascinated by him: his words, his theories. They should have been dry, but his summaries on the ethics of war and peace were poetic and mesmerising. She imagined arguments with him – heated debates on the words of T'Kar and Anghaal, and discussions into the wee hours of the morning. She would never have admitted it to anyone, even to herself, but even before she saw him on her view screen those years ago, she had already started to fall in love with him.

Absently she continued walking, but stopped in the room that her feet had brought her to; the one that was theirs. This is where she would love and be loved by him. Like in her dream, he would carve a bed for them and love her long into the hours of the early morning. A deep breath filled her lungs and she closed her eyes to savour it and the precious thoughts running through her. A smile crept up upon her features just as the sun came up and started to warm the skin on her back, reminding her that soon it would be another warm day.

"I love seeing that smile," His voice was rich, sleep-laden.

A laugh escaped her, but she did not open her eyes, even as an arm wrapped itself around her waist, his hands on the bare skin of her stomach. A small gasp escaped her lips at the intimacy of it; even though they had kissed and shared that closeness, this was somehow still so rich. "Good morning."

She felt his puffs of breath warming the skin of her neck. "Good morning."

"I have tomatoes," She opened her eyes and looked down beyond the tomato-filled bounty that burdened her T-shirt, satisfied and aroused seeing the darkness of his skin mingle with the paleness of her own.

"You're beautiful, Kathryn," He said suddenly. "I never said that to you before, but I should. You should be told that every day."

A rush of tenderness filled her. No one had ever said something like that to her before; maybe her mother once, but never Mark, not even Justin.

"I mean it," He hugged her closer to him. "I've always thought that. I think it every day, whenever I look at you."

"Thank you," She smiled again and squeezed the arm holding her to him before she pulled away and turned around to regard him. "I was thinking about you," She looked at the frame of a room they were standing in. "About us. Here."

He smiled and one dimple was unevenly deeper than the other. "I'll make a bed."

She took a deep breath and her smile widened. "I know. I dreamed of it."

"You told me."

"It's getting colder in the mornings now."

"Like it used to in San Francisco when fall was coming."

"Yes," She smiled. "I hope the winter will be mild."

"Me too."

The conversation petered out and all that was left were smiles. "What are we going to do today?"

"I thought," He took a deep breath and tore his eyes from her. "That we might get started on the plumbing and wiring."

"That sounds like a lot of work," she beamed, getting excited for a challenge.

"It is," He winked. "So we'd better get started."


	22. Chapter 22

Kathryn hummed while she worked, fastening the wires to the wall and running them along the floorboards. "This is fun," She smiled, stepping down the ladder to take another drink from her water bottle. "It reminds me of the projects I used to do with my father. He would be in his element here doing work like this. So would my mother." The water dripped down her chin and the smile that began painting her striking features disappeared behind a frown.

Sensing her forlorn, he stopped his work and stepped towards her – aching to make that sadness disappear. "Did I ever tell you," He took down his sunglasses and looked at her. "That I met your father once?"

"No," Kathryn's posture changed in that moment; she looked at him like she did a few weeks ago – when he withheld from her the information about the bathtub. "Tell me."

"I met him during my first week as an instructor. I remember he was giving a seminar on his experience with the Bactricians and bringing them into the Federation."

"One of his longer missions," Kathryn remembered. "He was gone for four months. I wanted to go to that seminar, but I was on my first an away mission after graduation and I didn't make it back on time. So, how was it?"

"It was good," he smiled. "I remember thinking he was a natural born story teller with his retelling of the harrowing negotiations."

Kathryn laughed, remembering his stories. "He was! My mother always told him he was quite the raconteur. He liked to embellish the edges," she winked.

"Well," Chakotay shrugged and went to pull on his ear lobe.

"Stop that," she smiled and caught his hand. "Tell me more."

"I met him in the corridor on the way to the seminar room. I recognised him immediately because he'd taught my large first-year tactics class. He recognised me right away and said my name as soon as I rounded the corner," Chakotay recalled. "I was a little taken aback. I didn't think he remembered me after all those years."

"You must've made quite an impression," Kathryn winked.

His darker colour rouged and he went to pull at his earlobe again, but remembered her silent admonishment. "Maybe."

"Or you got an A," she laughed. "Daddy was a notoriously hard grader."

"Maybe that's it then," he chuckled. "Either way, I didn't think he'd remember me. We walked towards the lecture hall together and he told me he was nervous about speaking in front of such a large group. At first I couldn't understand why; the freshman cadet seminar was over 200."

"It was his secret," Kathryn smiled. "He hated public speaking. He told me he got sweaty palms."

Chakotay chuckled at the image of the great Edward Janeway being nervous about public speaking. "Well you never would have known."

"He was a good actor," Kathryn nodded and sat down on the cool steps of the cabin. "Tell me more. What else did you talk about it?"

"Well," Chakotay took a seat next to her, grateful for the coolness of the rocks against his legs. "He told me that he heard that I was new the tactics instructor and said he wasn't surprised."

Kathryn laughed, leaning forward and rested her elbows on her knees. "Oh you really made in impression!"

He blushed again and shrugged his shoulders. "I asked him if he was enjoying the summer weather, and he told me he was excited to go back to Indiana for a few weeks before his debriefing." Chakotay ran his fingers through his hair, surprised at the frankness of the memories bombarding his mind. "I haven't remembered any of this in so long."

"Daddy loved Indiana. We should have moved to San Francisco, but he never wanted to leave our farmhouse in Bloomington. I remember when I was younger, when he was first promoted to Admiral, Phoebe was so sweet when she tearfully asked him if we would have to leave home. He promised us we'd never leave." Kathryn's smile was wistful. "Thank you for telling me this."

His lips quirked a half smile such that only one dimple deeply dented his cheek as he ran gentle fingers through the soft hair gathered in a pony tail at the nape of her neck. "I'm sorry you lost him, Kathryn. I'm sorry you're so far from home."

Kathryn leaned into his touch and closed her eyes. "I don't remember much of what happened on Tau Ceti, just that I was sure I was going to die with Daddy and Justin. I remember knowing before my head slipped under the water that they were dead. The water was ice cold, so cold that I could pretend it was warm. I was never afraid of the water; when I was younger, Phoebe and I used to practically live in the creek behind the farm. I felt a sense of peace surround me in those few moments under the water, and I was nearly excited. I felt warm and I could have sworn there was a light surrounding me, something calling me by name. And for a moment I thought I could breathe underwater," she breathed out once. "The next thing I knew I woke up in sickbay on the Ulysses. I was terribly disappointed," She felt him draw closer to her, pulled her to him, and kiss the hair on her head.

"I knew when I joined Starfleet that there were risks and that there might be a day when I died in the line of duty. And after Tau Ceti, I was okay with that. Somehow, though, it seems so much worse to be so far from home. I think that's why I was so adamant for the first few months."

"I don't know what to say, Kathryn," He breathed. "I don't know what to do."

"Chakotay," She turned in his arms and cradled his cheek in her palm. "Why would you say something like that? You've done so much to make me happy."

"I've been… selfish," he admitted. "I've been so happy here because I'm with you, living off the land, like I did when I was a boy. I have nothing to go back to in the Alpha Quadrant. No one's mourned me; no one is waiting for me."

"That doesn't make you selfish," Her voice was infinitely tender. "The reality is that we're probably never going to leave here, and now…" she emphasised the word. "Now, I'm okay with that."

Chakotay shook his head, "I still-" He tried to counter her words, but was silenced by the softness of her lips against his, tugging at him, loving him. His mouth opened seamlessly under hers before their tongues slid wetly over one another. He palmed her cheek, fingers tangling in the sun-warmed strands of her hair before he felt her smile and pull away.

"Shh," she smiled. "You make me happy now."

A rush of emotion suffused him, so great that it was impossible for his body to contain it, so it bubbled out under his nose and his eyes. "I didn't mean to make you cry," she smiled sheepishly and wiped away the moisture.

But he shook his head and held her fingers close to his wetted skin. "No one has ever said that to me."

She turned her head and kissed his cheek. "No one has ever told me that I'm beautiful."

He smiled brightly such that white teeth and dimples lit up his handsome face as he took her hand. "You are," he said seriously as he got up from the cool stone and tugged at her hand.

Kathryn kissed his cheek. "If we finish the wiring today we can start putting up the final walls tomorrow and start moving in."

"I'll have to get started on some furniture. Maybe this evening, when it gets cooler."

"I was thinking about a nice bath," Kathryn's voice cragged as she continued assembling the circuits. "After all this work it'll be nice to have a good soak."

Chakotay chuckled. "Sounds like a plan."


	23. Chapter 23

From where he stood, he could hear her splashing around in the bathtub and it made him smile. She hums to herself there like she does when she works – all tunes he can't recognise and, he thinks, neither can she.

His fingers smoothed over the roughed wood from the new logs they've harvested earlier in the week. The bigger pieces he'll leave for the walls in their home; the smaller ones and the chaff he'll use for the bed and the tables. Chakotay has memorised the dimensions of every room, and he measured these pieces accordingly.

For this piece in particular, he opts for something simple – something utilitarian that will last for years rather than something intricate and time-consuming.

Though he enjoys the process, he'll be happy when this project is behind them and they finally have a real home to settle into. Itchy fingers move over the unformed timber that he has worked for the duration of the evening to smooth. He knows what he's building – the significance of it. This bed is where he will love and be loved by her; a place that signifies the dissolution of the last barrier that stands so heavily between them.

He has positioned his workspace so that he can look and dream of ideas for it. "I was thinking," His voice cuts through the hummed quiet between them.

"You were thinking…" he hears her grin, waiting for him to continue his thought.

"I was thinking," Chakotay laughs. "What do you think of moving that bathtub inside?"

"Mmm," Water splashes and he can see it agitate over the edges. "I like the idea. We can put a showerhead over it, too."

"I was thinking the same thing. Plumbing won't be too hard," he thinks out loud. "We just run the line from the river to the house and replicate a heater."

"More work," He hears that smile again and more water sloshing over the edges. "I'd like to have showers again, though. We can use the line we made to water the plants if we need to."

"Which reminds me I'm hungry."

"We just ate two hours ago."

"I'm still hungry," he grumbled.

Kathryn leered at the image that came to mind: a mischievous boy with irresistible dimples and a peevish grin stretching his golden cheeks. "I can imagine you when you were a teenager – eating everything in sight."

He laughed at that. "My mother hated it!"

"I'll bet!" She chuckled again. "The benefit of having girls is that you never seem to have that problem."

"I don't believe that," he remembered his own experience. "My mother thought my sister was as bad as I was."

Kathryn thought of a little girl that looked just like him, stuffing her cheeks with everything delicious. The thought made her happy, but dually brought a tinge of sadness of what they could never have. Not here. Not alone like they were. "Did I say something?" She heard him say.

"No," she breathed out the word. "I was just thinking. Tell me about what you're building," Kathryn was determined to change the subject.

"It's a secret," he grinned, knowing it would rile her.

"Fine," she made a face into the night. "I think I can hazard a guess anyway."

"I'll bet," he laughed before the sound of the phaser muffled the melody of his mirth.

Kathryn closed and opened her eyes, the sound of him cutting wood providing a background to her thoughts as she scanned the midnight skies and examined the bright stars she found there. For a moment wondered about the fate of her beloved ship and crew, and she prayed to unseen, unknown deities, asking them for their hands of provision for the people that she loved – prayed they would be safe and make it home.

The night sky was darker here than it had been at home, when artificial lights had illuminated the sky's dark dominion, diminishing some of its fervour. The constellations were becoming more familiar to her as she took time each evening to map them. Each star was known by a name, named firstly after the ones dearest to her.

Like a child, she gazed up at them and followed their haloed trajectory with her finger, as if she were greeting them – thanking them for the abundant light that they shone.

The warmth of the water had long since dissipated, she realised, as a cool breeze rustled the trees and raised goose bumps on her arms. And all of a sudden, the thirsty towel hanging on the branch held more appeal as she stood and wrapped herself in it before she followed the noise emanating from the other side of the shelter.

The sound of the phaser died down, replaced with the more traditional din of the steal saw. "I'm getting tired," she heard him yawn before she turned the corner and saw him standing fatiguedly in front of his project.

"Well that sounds about right," She leaned against the side of the house and smiled wistfully at him. "We've been working almost sixteen hour days trying to get the cabin finished. You have the right to be tired."

Chakotay wasn't listening to what she was saying; his tired mind was consumed with the image that she presented him: carefree in repose against the side of the house, looking at him with affection – love.

On the ship, he knew somehow that this woman existed; that underneath her professionalism was someone spontaneous, loving – funny and carefree. Towards the beginning of their journey, he supposed that they would make it home soon – too soon to explore what was between them; too soon for her to fall in love with him. But, graciously he found that the Spirits were kind to those who were patient and asked kindly.

A wider smile crept over her features as casual glance that he'd given her at first quickly morpholigised into something akin to undisguised love and affection. "Are you listening to a word I've said?"

"Um," A cheeky breath escaped his chest as his gaze quickly turned down, half in amusement and half in embarrassment.

"I didn't think so," She laughed before turning the corner and entering the shelter.

"Was that a trick question?" His gentle voice as she disappeared behind her partition and slipped the cotton nightgown down over her bare skin.

"Was what a trick question?"

"Well," He took a deep breath, shucking off his dirty shorts and T shirt before slipping into his own bed. "You were standing in front of me in only a towel. Was I supposed to be listening to you?"

Kathryn laughed, "and I suppose me being completely covered in a towel automatically renders you deaf?"

"Well when I know you're naked underneath it…" he leered, turning towards his head towards her, imagining her mischievous grin looking back at him.

The statement brought a loud crack of laughter as the lights went out. "I guess I know what to do when I want you to do something."

"I think you already know how to do that," a smile crinkled his eyes as he closed them. "Good night, Kathryn."

"Good night, Chakotay," she breathed. "Hurry up and finish your project."

"Oh," his voice turned tired and sleepy. "You can count on it."


	24. Chapter 24

The sun was hotter today than it was the last. The trend towards cooler days in the last week or so seemed to have been interrupted and now the heat was back in full force.

"I take back what I said about the days getting cooler." Chakotay had taken off his shirt and thrown the tattered garment on the ground next to his near-empty canteen. "I don't like this heat, and I want to finish this damn house and finally take break."

Despite her own agitation with the temperature, she looked back at him with an impish smile on her face while she wiped the sweat from out under her sunglasses as she looked down at her from her rise up on the ladder. "Someone's grouchy today."

"I'm not grouchy," his tone was peevish. "I'm hot and I'm tired."

"I thought this is like the climate you grew up on."

"It is," He put down the rudimentary hammer in his hand after he'd finished agitatedly pounding in the last nail into the wall that separated the living area and the bedroom. "Still," he wiped more sweat off his neck and took a drink from the bottle at his feet. "I don't like it any more now than I did then."

Kathryn suddenly laughed at his sullenness. "Why are you laughing?"

"You," She shook her head and stretched the tired muscles of her neck while she leaned against the high wall. "I'm laughing because of you."

She looked down and could see the beginnings of a smile stretch those brooding cheeks and bring precious dimples out of hiding. Her laughter fomented his own and for the moment he couldn't stay angry. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?" Her laughter petered down into a trickle as she hot sun mercifully disappeared behind a cloud.

He motioned indistinctly with his hands in front of him looking for the thought he wanted to purvey. "Make me come back to myself."

She smiled crookedly at him and took one step down the high ladder she was propped up on. "We keep making ambitious plans at the beginning of every day that we never seem to finish. Maybe we need to start being a little more conservative with our planning."

Chakotay rolled his eyes at that and looked down as he leaned against the newly erected wall. "I'm just tired of living in the shelter. I want somewhere where we can have space and breathe."

"I don't like living there any more than you do," Kathryn made her way down the ladder to get to her water bottle. "But it's what we have."

He let out a solemn breath and looked up at the sky, watching blessedly grey clouds cover the sky again and block out the searing sun. "I know," he acquiesced and then smiled. "You're starting to sound like me on a good day."

"Are you implying that I'm the one who usually complains?" His smile was wicked in response. "I do not complain." He was silent for a while longer, staring her down with that grin still on his face. "Okay fine," she relented. "Sometimes I complain."

"I didn't say it was a bad thing," he turned back to the newly placed wall and spread his hands along it. "I'll have to sand this down. "We can paint the walls if we want."

"Something in blues and greens," she laughed and the water spilled down her chest and wetted her tank top.

"Or maybe a pinstripe," he chuckled, remembering their early banter.

"Maybe," Kathryn let the canteen fall back on the floor. "Tell me something else while we work. Talk to me."

"What do you want me to tell you?"

"Something," Kathryrn shrugged and moved the ladder over to finish wiring the kitchen. The work was rudimentary to her. She had memorised the schematics of the shelter and had started dismantling it in piecemeal, leaving behind the replicator and some of the lighting. Those she would install last. But at least for now, by the end of the day they would have some light in their home. "Tell me about how you met B'Elanna."

"B'Elanna," he breathed her name with a solemn fondness. "Before I inherited the Val Jean, I heard a rumour about this young firebrand engineer who'd just dropped out of the academy. No one wanted to work with her," he laughed at the memory. "Even though she was a genius, she was too cantankerous for most people to work with."

"That sounds like our B'Elanna," Kathryn laughed. "I'll never forget the time she broke Joe Carey's nose! Not to mention the handful of times she's come to my ready room on the war path."

"Now you see why no one wanted to work with her. Imagine that temper in a command structure looser than Voyager and you have more than a broken nose to contend with."

"So you requested her?"

"What can I say?" He shrugged. "I'm a glutton for punishment." Chakotay re-examined the dimensions of their room as he placed the laser scanner. "She wasn't hard to get. She was one of the best decisions that I ever made." He stopped to think about her; to conjure her face into his mind, the sound of her voice, her laugh. "I miss her."

"She was a good friend to you."

"She was," he agreed. "She could have been to you as well."

Kathryn gave a half-hearted shrug. "I don't think so, Chakotay. There was too much between us for there to have been a friendship there. A camaraderie, maybe – almost, but something as deep as a friendship, no."

"Why?" He knew a variation of her answer, but he asked anyway.

Kathryn stopped fiddling with the filamentous wires and looked at the tangle of them in her hand. "I think you know why. B'Elanna is volatile, and there was a lot of animosity I think because of everything that has happened over the last two years."

"Because of us being lost," he filled in. "I don't think she's as upset about that as she was in the beginning. She calmed down once she truly realised that going back would have meant prison."

"Still," Kathryn looked down at him, her eyes visible now that the sun had temporarily given up its dominion. "There's a lot of resentment."

"Because-"

"Because I made her, and you," her eyes were open, honest. "Your entire crew. I made them wear the uniform and obey to the rules of the organisation that abandoned them."

"Kathryn," he breathed out her name, his body for the moment completely effete. A silence laid between them, one that was heavy and pregnant with words unspoken since that day they had joined their crews into one. "What we decided to do that day was in-"

"My best interest."

"Our," he corrected her. "Everyone's. It wouldn't have worked – running Voyager both ways. We were coming to your ship, we rightly abided by your rules."

"There should have been some sort of compromise," Kathryn's voice rose an octave, like it did when she was adamant. "Maybe then we wouldn't have had as any problems…" She looked him in the eye again. "I didn't give you or your crew much thought. I just-"

"Stop," Chakotay filled his breath with the cooling air. "You did nothing wrong, Kathryn. You're right, though; there was a lot of resentment among the Maquis in those first few months."

Kathryn smiled, thinking about the garrulously cantankerous Chell. "Some more than others."

"But we got over it."

"We?" She looked at him. "You as well?"

He looked away from her and her smile disintegrated into a frown. "I think you know the answer to that Kathryn. After I left Starfleet four years ago, I never wanted to go back. As a boy, I was so, so passionate about it: the vision – the mission. But after the Federation made that alliance, all for their own convenience, I became disillusioned. Maybe in retrospect, we should have left Dorvan and given it up. I always told my father and the elders of my people that it could happen, I just never expected that it would or that the Federation would let it."

Kathryn gave a nod and choked on her next words. "Do you resent me for what I did?"

He answered her immediately, and without hesitation, "no. No one on my crew does. Not any more, at least. Well," he gave a grim smile and thought of one in particular. "Except for Seska."

"Seska," Kathryn let her head fall against her shoulder with the thought of the Cardassian turncoat.

"But I don't think she counts," he tried for a genuine smile before he turned back to the laser projector on the floor.

"Yeah," Kathryn similarly turned to the wires in her hand and resumed fixating them along the pattern she had figured along the wall, according the spaces they'd install the cabinets.

"Hey," His voice was soft and she turned her head at the sound of it. "I feel you frowning."

"You feel me frowning," Kathryn gave him a suspicious look.

"Indian intuition," he made a mystical gesture with his hands and made her laugh. "That's better."

Kathryn's heart filled so quickly that in her chest she could nearly feel a sense of physical fullness. "What's wrong?" She heard him ask.

"Nothing," she shook her head and looked away from him. "You know if I finish putting the wires in the kitchen this evening, we can start moving the cabinetry over from the shelter by tomorrow."

He looked back at her for a second. "I think we're going down that too ambitious route again."

Kathryn chuckled. "You're right, but I'm like you – starting to get impatient."

"Soon," he told her. "Soon."


	25. Chapter 25

"We need to start on and finish the roof today if at all possible," Chakotay commented, thinking they'd made a poor decision to start the wiring before they'd laid the slabs he was cutting for the roof.

Their day had passed too quickly and the bright yellow afternoon sun was starting to lay way to the oranges and reds of dusk. "It's only two according to the chronometer," she mused, walking over to where he was working. "The roof won't take very long."

"No," he said. "But I have a feeling we should finish it before the day ends."

"Isn't that a little too ambitious?" Kathryn poured some of the water in her canteen down her shirt to keep herself from overheating before she took a sip and let the cool water bathe her insides.

"I don't think so," he motioned to the piles of half logs that he'd cut and measured over the last day and a half. "I just have a feeling we should do it today. The air feels heavier than it usually does – almost like it did before the storm."

Kathryn let her shoulders drop as she looked up at the sky. "You're worried about rain."

"Yes," he nodded, taking a step back from his work and wiping the fat droplets of sweat off with the towel that he'd laid on his workstation. "I don't have to tell you that-"

"Rain and electronics don't mix," Kathryn rued. "You're right." She looked over at the cabin and then to the shuttle. "I'll get back in the shuttle and start placing the logs."

He nodded through a swig of cool water, appreciating the way it felt going down his throat. "It won't take us long."

"No," Kathryn shook her head and turned back towards the shuttle. "We should have thought about this ahead of time."

"We haven't done anything wrong," he conceded. "I'm only worried because of the humidity. We haven't had rain yet and even if it's only another plasma storm, I don't want our work to be ruined."

Kathryn nodded and took one last look at the modest structure before she turned towards the shuttle. Once inside, she drew up the schematics and started inputting her data.

They'd built the cabin with a solid skeleton of heavy beams, each one costing nearly an entire timber. The walls were comprised of thinner cuts, but still sturdy nevertheless. The roof would be composed of long solid slabs layered with one overlapping the other such that any rain or possibly snow would easily slough off of it. The solar panels from the shelter would have to be removed and re-fitted, giving the house an ample and reliable source of energy. But that was work for another day.

The tractor beam had been remarkably useful, Kathryn mused, as she started the shuttle's engines and began the shallow ascent. Once in place hovering over the cabin, she watched as Chakotay positioned the ladder and waited. The first log transferred easily as she tractored it into the air, turned it, and laid it atop the most distal part of the home's skeleton. She watched as he drove long, thick nails, nearly beams themselves, into the wood several times over before moving along the house and securing the heavy pieces together.

In near silence, they worked efficiently over the course of the afternoon until the sun well and truly disappeared behind the evening clouds. With the majority of the roof set, Kathryn the broke silence over the comm. with a yawn, feeling nearly guilty for doing so since he was the one who had done all of the manual labour. "Aren't you tired?" She asked, nervous butterflies fluttering in her stomach while she watched him walk up on the roof, surveying what he'd done.

"Exhausted," he replied. "But I wanted to get this finished. I think this is good enough for today."

"I'm going to land the shuttle."

"By all means," this time he yawned.

"I'm nervous about you walking on that roof."

"I'm perfectly fine," he smiled at her worry as he made his way back down to the ladder and began his descent back down to solid ground. "We got more done today than I anticipated."

"Mm," she yawned again and landed the shuttle before powering it down. Her legs had cramped from the rigoured position she'd assumed all day in the chair. It felt good to get out and stretch her legs as she walked towards the cabin as he walked around to meet her.

"What do you think?"

"I think we should look inside," she smiled, taking his hand as she rubbed her eyes.

"Tomorrow I'll make a proper door for us," he said as they passed through the entry way into the home. "It just didn't feel like we needed one when we didn't have a roof. That sounds silly."

"No," she shook her head and squeezed his hand. "Oh, I think I'll sleep well tonight."

"Mmm," this time he was the one who let out a yawn. "It finally feels like a home, don't you think?"

She nodded and led him around the space. "I've never had a home of my own before."

"Neither have I," he agreed, tightening his grasp on her fingers. "At least not one that I built and belonged to me."

The light from the shelter brightened automatically, though dimmer now that Kathryn had taken out half the light consoles from the walls. But it was still enough to shine in through the kitchen windows and dimly illuminated the space. They stood for a while, in the centre of the modest living area, saying nothing as they looked on what their collective efforts had created.

"Mark always wanted to buy a house with me," Kathryn spoke out loud as she let go of his hand and walked through into the bedroom, looking at the space in the half-light. "But I didn't see much point in us buying a home together, not when our lives were the way they were," Kathryn looked out the large window that he'd installed a few days ago. "He kept at me though. 'Kath,' he'd say. 'When are you going to stop chasing the stars and settle down?'"

Chakotay came to stand next to her, close enough so that he could feel the warmth of her body, but not too so that he was touching her. "I just kept running, though," Kathryn put her arms around herself. "I never wanted to settle down. There was so much I wanted to see and experience, and I've done that, I think. I have, but there's such finality to this here – our home. Our home."

"I know," he breathed, once again crestfallen for her; for the fact that he couldn't make her happy.

She turned to him suddenly, tired eyes adamant. "That's not what I meant."

"Kathryn I know you," his eyes plead with her. "I know this is difficult."

She took a step closer to him and put a hand on his arm. "Chakotay," his name was a whisper as she pulled him closer, wrapped herself in him, breathed in the smell of him, familiar to her now after days of long labour. They stood there like that, long enough for the tension in his fatiguedly sore muscles to dissipate as he held her. He started to fall asleep that way, swaying this way and that as tired limbs held him up.

Her deep inhalation against his chest roused him before he felt her tug on his hand and led him out back down the stone steps and across the soft grass, in front of the garden, and back into the their shelter. He followed her without thought, his feet treading on instinct.

She kept her silence as she guided him, past their cluttered workspace and into her partition. He hadn't paid attention to where he was going, too tired to care or speak, he'd simply followed her until she was standing with him in front of her cot. Not bothering with removing any of her clammy clothing, she only slipped off her shoes and moved onto the bed, not letting go of his hand. His lips were too tired to ask her – ask her why she'd brought him here, or tell her he should go, and walk the two paces to his own cot. So instead he simply followed her example, leaving his clothing be as he crawled onto the cramped bed with her.

He noted dimly how they both smelled, and how good it would feel to jump into the river and soap his body with a fragrant bar of soap. But the notion was only fleeting, gone when he felt her wrap her arms around him and hold him close to her body.

Filled with the peace that only Kathryn brought him, Chakotay didn't speak, only tiredly whimpered his satisfaction as she held him close to her and fell asleep just as surely as her head hit the shared pillow.


	26. Chapter 26

Kathryn woke the next morning to a recently familiar, fresh smell bleeding in through the shelter's open windows. They had shifted during the night so that she woke with her head pillowed on his chest and her arm wrapped securely around his waist. She felt his fingers tangled in her snarled ponytail, and she dreaded the moment when he would try to remove them.

The sound of the rain pelting against the sides of their shelter was comforting as she laid here with him in the morning overcast. "Mm," he mumbled as she felt him turn, his fingers tangling further in the mess of her hair. His wakefulness lasted no longer than a few seconds, however, until he resumed his light snoring – a sound that should have been aggravating, but one that she now considered soothing as it rumbled lightly against her cheek.

Kathryn looked around that the state of her partition. She had always taken a religiously fastidious pride in her penchant for neatness, but now found the pursuit all but meaningless.

The few thin sheets that comprised her bedclothes laid messy on the floor, sonorously tangled around their discarded work shoes. Their collective meagreness contrasted with the thoughts of the comfortable blankets that she had in the stasis containers piled against the side of the shelter along with the remainder of their belongings that didn't fit inside their tiny makeshift lodging. She thought of their future bed piled high with those same blankets and pillows, covering them on a morning like this while they watched the rain bleat down on the skylight.

"And on the six day…" she hadn't realised he'd stopped snoring until his voice rolled underneath her ear. "He rested."

She smiled and respired a small laugh. "I could sleep all day."

He smiled slightly, eyes still closed. "Why don't we?"

"Because…" Kathryn looked up and saw cheeky dimples. "We reek."

"That does present a problem."

"You're not moving," she leered, moving her hand up to his – the one that was tangled in her ponytail, and carefully unfurled it.

He nodded against the pillow and theatrically burrowed his backside against the mattress. "I'm comfortable."

"Ouch," She hissed when he finally removed his hand. "Well I'm squished against a wall."

"Sorry."

This time she glared at him. "I need to wash my hair."

"I'm not keeping you."

His mock obstinacy brought a laugh despite her aggravation. "You're really not going to let me up?"

"You can go at any time." He opened his eyes and looked at her with a boyish grin and stared her down until she relented.

"Fine," she said, laying her head back down on his chest while they returned to their quiet repose. "I never used to like days like this."

"I was never used to days like this," his hand automatically returned to her hair, this time though, rather than tangling his fingers in it and hurting her, he settled for resting against the burnished, tangled strands. "But I like them. Like this I like them."

"I wonder where they are right now," Kathryn asked her inured question. "If they're thinking about us."

"I just hope they're safe," he breathed, looking up at her slit of a bedroom window and watching fat drops of rain adhere and then bead their way down.

"I wonder if they'll get home – how long it will take them, if they'll find a shortcut."

"Maybe," he sighed, wishing for the Maquis' sake that their journey home wouldn't be too swift so as to find themselves back where they started from: headed for prison."

"You don't sound enthusiastic," Kathryn disentangled herself from around him and propped herself on her arm over him. "You don't know that they'll go to prison."

"Kathryn," His voice pleads with sarcasm. "You were sent to capture us and bring us to Justice. You know more than anyone that the Maquis were considered traitors. And I think you know as well as I do that, if by some great chance, our crew gets back within the next five years, the Federation will throw them into prison for crimes against the Federation, or worse, hand them over to the Cardassians to maintain some semblance of peace. You know that, Kathryn. I know you know that because you went to a penal colony where you found Paris, who'd only been captured from our cell a few weeks earlier."

The breath left Kathryn's lungs and she looked down, her eyes focusing in on an inconsequential dirt stain on his soft green t-shirt and she nodded quickly, acquiescing his truth. "Did you ever want to go back, Chakotay?"

"No, Kathryn, not for myself. But for you…" he took a breath and exhaled heavily. "For you, I wanted to get home more than anything. I would have done – still would do - anything to give that to you."

Tears crowded and built pressure behind her eyes before they brimmed over the edges and made wet trails down her cheeks. "It wasn't two weeks before I left that Admiral Paris called me into his office and told me the rumour that Headquarters was considering giving me the mission to go after you. He said he'd heard it from a high up source that the rest of the Admiralty was impressed with me; they wanted me to prove my mettle and had thought no better way to do that than to send me to capture you. It was to be a great victory if I captured you and brought you to justice. He said Edward would have been proud that his little girl had been given such an honour." Her voice turned gravelly, she savoured the feeling of Chakotay's fingers wiping the saline sadness from her cheeks. His fingers, she thought, should have been rough from all the work that he'd been doing. Instead, though, they were impeccably soft, and she gently held them against her skin and cherished their warmth. "Owen knew how much I wanted to make daddy proud; I think he knew how much I wanted to make him proud. After everything that we'd shared, I looked up to him, and I didn't want to disappoint him any more than I did own father."

"Just like Owen predicted, I was called into the briefing room at Headquarters not twenty four hours later and given my commission, and Voyager. Go to the Badlands, they said, find the Maquis and bring him back. I asked them what I was to do when I found you and your crew. Hayes looked at me pointedly, 'detain them. They're criminals, Kathryn, and they're dangerous.'"

Chakotay listened silently while she continued her story. "I went back to my Starfleet apartment that afternoon, sat down in front of my console, and I studied you. I learned everything about you: your service record, your teaching syllabi, your official logs… everything. I don't remember sleeping much for those two weeks; I became obsessed with your words, with getting inside your mind…"

He smiled and huffed a small chuckle at her words, not having known any of this previously. But still he said nothing, and waited patiently for her to continue.

Kathryn turned herself slightly, her smaller body practically on top of his as she made herself comfortable again in the cramped space. "Mark started complaining that he never saw me anymore, but I ignored him," she half smiled. "I just sat there, with Molly curled at my feet, and I studied. My mother used to call and tell me to eat," she huffed a laugh and rolled her eyes fondly at the remembrance before her voice returned to its former solemness. "What I didn't tell anyone, not even myself, was that I started falling in love in the silliest and most devastating way with you and your words. I started seeing you as a hero who gave up everything for the people that he loved. And every day that I spent surrounded by those padds, I became less and less convinced that what the Federation was doing was right."

She'd kept her eyes on that same spot on his shirt for the duration of her anecdote before she looked up at him, shy now that her admission had been committed to the finality of the air between them. "So yes, I know what would have happened if I apprehended you, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to fight for you."

The breath left his lungs in a whoosh as his hand meandered softly down her side, settling warmly on her hip. He leaned up away from the pillow and drew her down to him to kiss her cheeks – once on either side before her forehead. Her eyes were closed when his lips slanted over hers. He kissed her with both passion and gratitude, tracing his tongue over her teeth, stealing the breath from her lungs.

She was smiling when he pulled away, her position still the same with her eyes closed. "Thank you for telling me that," he said softly when she'd opened her eyes.

"It's true."

Exaggerated dimples dented his sharp cheeks, "Every word?"

"Yes," Her bright smile mirrored his and she thumped her hand against his chest. "Every word."

The sweet grin that decorated his visage wouldn't let up, and she couldn't look away from him until the sun shone in through the slitted window. "The sun is out."

He tapped his palm gently against her hip and moved out from under her. "I think," he looked back and bathed himself in the warmth bleeding in through the window. "That we should go down to the river."

"Mm," she nodded and followed him out of bed and crouched down beside the foot of the cot to burrow for her towel and soap. "We should check and see how well the roof did with the rain. If my wiring survived…"

"Fingers crossed," she heard him say from behind the plexiglass before he reappeared before her with his own toiletries. "Ready to go?"

She smiled and put her hand in his. "Let's go."


End file.
